Ursa the Cunning
by The Unchained Melody
Summary: Talion and a half-Orc chieftain named Ursa have begun conquering the land of Núrn. However, across the sea, darkness is gathering and preparing to strike. The Black Captains are ready to put an end to all Ursa and her lover have accomplished. Amidst this chaos, a new life is stirring within the young Warchief. Sequel to Ursa the Weakling. Rated M for violence and sexual content.
1. The Life Within and the Falling Warchief

**Chapter One: The Life Within and the Falling Warchief**

A fading candle burned within the mud and thatch hut, just one of thousands in the Orc city. The air was thick and rancid, reeking of rotting flesh and feces. Scattered about the ground were chewed up bones, broken shells, and empty animal skins that once held grog. On the roof of the hut was an opening, a vent for the smoldering fire that usually kept the room lit. What was left of the fire was merely heated coals and flickering embers. Here sat a small child of grey flesh and messy black hair. She looked like a phantom, an unfortunate casualty of war. This child was cursed, although she did not truly know it yet. Her red eyes were fixed to the heavens as she observed a falling star speed on by and vanish into the night. She wished desperately to go outside and see the night sky in its entirety. However, this was forbidden.

A deep, sickly breath deafened her ears. It was the snores of a goblin laying on a clump of furs and fabrics. It slept on the only bed in the hut. This goblin was only skin and bones, lacking any fat and muscle. Her brow ridge jetted forward and she had a long, hooked nose. Her skin was a light grey, covered in warts. As she snored, she let out a deep cough, that resonated in her lungs. The orc gagged and reeled as she woke up and sat herself up straight. She continued to cough violently, trying to clear her throat. The hoarseness of it became weaker and more strained as it continued. The small Orc child was frozen at the fire pit. She did not flinch or turn to face the adult. She feared she had been discovered.

"Why 'er you still awake?" asked the larger orc. Her teeth grit after she finished asking her question, exposing her chipped set of fangs.

"I could not sleep mother."

"Get to bed this instance!"

"Yes!" the small orc scurried to the small clump of rags in the corner and huddled in it. She curled up like a small animal as she attempted to hide her small form from the cold that soaked into her veins. Always she felt like winter stirred within her. Any heat was welcome as it stopped the shivering. Her frozen form buried itself deeper into the dirty fabrics that surrounded her. To her chest, she pressed an old leather-bound book. It was an old group of tribal tales written in Black Speech. She tried desperately to shut her eyes. If she could manage sleep, she would survive long enough to see morning. As she finally slipped away, she was awoken by a violent cough that made her lungs ache.

"Ah, you caught it to eh?" asked her mother.

The mother Orc let out a frustrated growl.

"I guess that's it then."

The child said, "I'm just a little under the weather. I'll be alright."

"You are such a disappointment"

The little Orc's sunk into her chest as if a blade had stabbed into her. She said nothing in response to her mother. Though she heard it before, the sting was no less painful.

"I gave you the blood of a strong ranger, but you're sick as I am. Weak. Frail. Like all the others. And now… now we must live like this. Like exiles."

"I'm sorry mother. I'll become strong when I'm older."

"No, you won't!"

Her mother jumped out of her bed and kicked a pale of water that sat at the foot of her bed. She then reeled over and began coughing. She grabbed her chest as she began to cough up blood.

"Mother!"

The small Orc jumped out of bed and ran to her mother's side. However, as she reached her, she felt the violent push of her mother's palm. The small orc yelped as she fell to the ground.

"Don't touch me!" said the Orc, "I… don't your help. You can't help yerself. When I'm gone, you'll starve to death. Half breeds never live long. You were lucky to be born at all. Why did the Dark Lord think they could be fine warriors? What went wrong? I did everything right!"

"I won't die!" said the child, "Mother please… I'm scared."

"Half-breeds" said her mother, "always sick. And you… if you live, it won't matter. You can't fight. You can't have pups. They never can. All Orc will hate you."

Her mother whispered, "That is your doom."

* * *

A single eye like fire awoke. The other, long ago plucked, left its socket hidden behind an eye patch. Still, her sight was sharper than ever. Long black bangs like a veil obscured her face. Amidst the moonlight that poured in the window, her deathly features could be seen. Her pale skin as white as snow, her slit eye like a snake, her grey fangs, and her ears that jetted back like a twisted Elf's. She clung to a blanket that hid her nude features. Her fiery eyes fell to her side where there lay a handsome man with a sharp jaw and a face peppered with stubble. His long brown locks fell into a tussle beside him. His luminous eyes were shut as he gave even breaths. The woman trailed a claw up his chest, playing with the indentations of his fine muscles, stopping to stroke a scar or two.

The woman turned to look out the window at the lonely moon that shone so brightly, hiding the stars and overwhelming the black of night. She let out a deep sigh and lay her head down on the bare chest of the man. The man stirred for a second. In his half-state of consciousness, his muscular arm came around her back, pulling her in close. Her hand slid up to his breast for support and comfort. With that, she fell back to sleep. No doubt nightmares would plague her, but the Dark Lord no longer haunted her sleep. No, now his whispers were with her always. At least, sleep was not so painful. At least, she could sleep deeply and soundly knowing someone was beside her.

The room fell silent as she returned to sleep. All thoughts and worries ceased. Only the gentle breathing of lovers could be heard. It was the only stirrings in a long, event-less night. It was all either of them could ask for. The world was not perfect for Ursa. It never could be. However, compared to the cold loneliness that lay behind her, such moments with Talion were paradise.

* * *

The chirping of spirited birds pierced Ursa's ears. She awoke to the sharp blaze of the morning sun. She stretched her thin and muscle-less arms. They ached and stung as usual. However, she felt quite refreshed. Nights like this with her lover were of bliss. Passion of the body and comfort through the night were still new to her. She eagerly devoured these gifts and clung to them in fear and love.

She stirred now, pulling herself up, the sheets still clinging to her form. She saw Talion tightening the leather straps of sword's belt. He was wearing his worn-down trousers, but remained without his shirt. She couldn't help but eye him carefully. Her heart raced as she did.

Ursa whispered to him, "What fortune as a woman that you are mine."

Talion blinked and rubbed the back of his head, sending his hair into a torrent.

"Thank you Ursa," he said, "However, I am fortunate as well."

He crawled up onto the bed until he reached her face. He pressed his lips against hers, a gesture which caused her to shut her eyes and blush madly. Her face turned scarlet like a strawberry as it accepted his kiss. He kissed her again and again, each time deepening it. At last, Talion pulled away leaving her panting.

He said, "Have you forgotten what I said? I have thought you beautiful since first I saw you."

Ursa muttered her thanks, unable to hide her shyness.

"Ursa…" said Talion more sternly, "Truly I meant every word. Your beauty was so that I was distracted upon many of our meanings. When first I saw you clearly in your tower, I tried to not think of it. It drove me mad to think an Orc could be so beautiful… beauty more like that of the Elves"

She put a hand up to her mouth and looked completely away.

"I… I don't know how to accept such a compliment. It is difficult for me."

"I know. I saw into your memories," began Talion, "I know how you were wronged by the Orc and by men. I wish I could erase such lies."

Ursa said, "I will learn to forget. Perhaps it is only you who sees me so. However, that is enough. You are enough for me Lord Talion."

Talion said, "You must learn to see yourself as beautiful, as strong, as kind."

The half-Orc said, "I do not know who I am anymore. Not since the Dark Lord came before me."

Indeed, Ursa had changed since then. She did not know if the Dark Lord now pulled the strings of her mind and soul. If not, then he simply whispered and tempted her, releasing her inhibitions and drawing on her fears and goals. Drunk on power, her mind had changed so viciously that day, but now those emotions receded. Even so, there was no regaining the innocence she had lost. She was aware of it now, that she could kill. No longer could she or would she simply hand the responsibility over to the ranger. She had immolated the servant of the Tower, a Black Captain of Sauron. The underling was an innocent Orc, possessed by his master and yet to save Talion, she turned him into ash. There was no escaping this sin and no escaping Sauron.

Even so, she moved forward.

Talion said, "You do not seem as cold as you did then. Perhaps the Dark Lord's hold has weakened."

"Perhaps," said Ursa, "Perhaps not."

As she saw the fear in his eyes, Ursa quickly said, "I am sorry. I speak of such dark tidings when you are comforting me. I would rather think of us."

"Then we shall," said Talion deeply.

As he spoke, he propped himself against her so his legs were on each side of her own. His hands slipped over hers and he held her there.

In her mind, she repeated here one remaining truth, "I am loved. This love is mine."

She felt some blood return to her veins. Ursa smiled at Talion and pressed her lips against him. It was several months ago that they confessed their love. Even so, she felt the same rush she had experienced in their first kiss. She felt Talion's fingers press against her ring finger, causing the cold of the jewelry she wore to freeze her skin. It was about a month ago he had proposed to her. Well, technically, she had proposed to him upon their second meeting. As such, Talion was the one who had finally accepted. Ursa now wore the ring around her finger, taking it off as little as she could spare.

Ursa now felt a chill run up her spine, although there was no fear involved. In walked the source of her premonition, the unnatural being that haunted them. However, Ursa did not think of him so. Rather, she thought of him as an ally and something of a friend. It was the spirit of Celebrimbor. His long white hair and sharp Elven features were illuminated like moonlight. He wore the fine raiment of an Elf lord and had the majestic gaze to match. He looked at them only briefly and turned away, likely to Ursa's state of undress.

He said in a pious tone, "It is late into the morning and yet you here you lie so carelessly."

Ursa said, "Forgive me my lord. I have stolen Talion from you too long and sent you far from us. I have been selfish."

The wraith said, "I have been accommodating, have I not?"

"Most certainly" said Ursa.

Talion said, "Do not flatter him so. He loves it."

"You could learn a thing or two about respect from your wife to be." said the Elf.

As Talion shrugged, Celebrimbor said, "The Queen's daughter is here."

Talion asked, "Lithariel?"

The elf said, "She said you had something to discuss privately."

"Y-yes, we have an arrangement. However, I meant to see the Queen about it."

Celebrimbor said, "Marwen is too busy preparing her men for the taking of Fort Morn, although I'm sure her daughter is as well. What business do you have with them?"

Talion answered, "It is… I will speak to you two about it once I know it is feasible. Until then, please be patient."

Ursa said, "Then please do not keep her waiting. She has come a long way."

Talion said, "Ursa…. I hope this does not look…"

Ursa tilted her head and asked, "Hmm? Oh… I am suspicious, although not jealous. I would be a fool to, do you think me so?"

"Of course not," he said, "I simply do not wish to worry you."

Ursa smiled at him, but quickly blushed. She became aware of her surroundings and tightened the sheet around her more closely.

She said, "You two go ahead. I will dress and join you after your discussion is over."

Talion said, "Wonderful."

He quickly grabbed his tunic and left the room. The wraith trailed after him, shifting through the wall without hesitation.

Ursa now dressed herself. She wore a set of silky black robes that left her collar and shoulders exposed. It trailed past her feet and hid her long talons behind their sleeves. The inside of the dress was a royal red, flashing the room with vibrant color as her robes tossed about with each movement. It was not as gaudy as the robes she had worn at her crowning as a Chieftain, but they still served to flaunt her power as a Warchief. Now, as Talion could brand Orcs to his will and her service, there was no longer much need for politics or power displays. She felt her stomach turn to rot as she thought back to her emotionless decision to let the ranger brand her people.

 _It's better this way. None need now die. They do not need to know. They can live life as happily as they had before. Indeed, some even seemed to enjoy serving Talion and myself._

 _No._

 _There is no justification._

 _There can never be for war._

 _Even so, to do nothing is unacceptable. I've spent my life running. Ursa the Coward…. Such a fitting name. I will not run… but I will not let you play me like a fool Lord Sauron. I will fight._

Ursa the Cunning. That is now what she was called. And soon she would no longer just be Warchief. Soon all Warchiefs would bow to her.

As she reached for the door, Ursa fell to the ground and covered her mouth. Her eye bulged as she felt her stomach begin to constrict. She quickly ran to the bathroom and began to gag. Bile and acids shot out of her mouth. She coughed and collapsed to the floor. She quickly went for a pitcher of water that sat beside her bed. She swallowed a goblet-full, trying to wash away the burning sensation that was coursing in her throat. After a minute, it had passed. Ursa was left to only worry at her condition.

She asked aloud, "What's happening to me?"

She feared she had caught something dreadful. Indeed, for nine days, she had felt sick to her stomach on every occasion. However, no other symptoms had yet plagued her too readily. If she was ill, her doctors could not seem to treat her. But it did not seem contagious. No other Orcs had come down with something. Her heart began to now race as a frightening though took over. It had happened ever since the day she accepted Sauron's gift of power. Was this some sort of punishment? Was her body unable to handle the unnatural weapon he had provided her with? It made sense to a point. She was frail and sickly. How could a Half-Orc possibly be healthy wielding such a curse?

 _I must tell Talion._

But she would wait until another day. She had worried him enough as it was.

Ursa walked into the main hall where Celebrimbor was waiting patiently. This hall was rather plain as it was simply a refurnished mansion that once belonged to one of the local lords, long dead from the Orc invasion that swept through Núrn some years ago. It was not part of Ursa's farmlands nor the swamplands she had purchased from Warchief Kalug the Humiliator. Instead, Talion and the Wraith had taken it from a wealthy Orc captain that lived nearby and handed it over to Ursa.

Ursa looked around at her host of Orcs.

One said, "I still reek of swamp waters. I'm gonna catch something deadly if I go back there."

"Shut yer yap! The Warchief's coming."

Ursa marveled at how they recognized her so clearly but were unaware of Talion and Lithariel's presence in the building. Nor did the Orcs seem disturbed by the men of the wild who had accompanied the maiden. It was by a single command Talion had caused the Orcs to pay no mind to the humans. The dissonance that had taken over the Orcs was seamless. They seemed themselves, they were themselves save for the wraith's interference.

Ursa saw her bodyguard and captain Flog waltz up in front of her.

He said, "Quiet all of you. Bow to your Warchief!"

Ursa said, "There is no need. What news about the swamp?"

Her strategist of sorts, an elder female Orc, said to Ursa, "It goes as planned. Another six months and it will be ready for farming."

 _Even though Talion has promised me and Queen Marwen the entirety of this land, it is not enough. We should not encroach on the villagers who live here so readily. This swamp can one day feed much of our army. I must not abandon it so carelessly._

Ursa answered, "Very good."

A moment later, she saw the robust figure of Talion stride out of a room to her left. Behind him was the more petite form of the female warrior, wearing her usual green hunting attire and sporting blonde dreadlocks.

Ursa bowed abruptly to her guest.

"Warchief Ursa. Thank you for your hospitality." said Lithariel.

The half-Orc replied, "Think nothing of it. You are welcome here, as are your people."

Lithariel said, "I've done some scouting of Kalug's keep. I've given Talion a scroll with information on what I learned, should you want to raid it. If we are to take the slave port, it may be beneficial to expand your forces soon."

Ursa said, "I thank you. I intend to strike soon. Until then, I— "

Ursa clutched her stomach. She felt a painful sensation surging through her. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth as she buckled over. Talion's eyes widened as he watched his wife-to-be vomiting in front of him. He quickly ran over to her side and helped her to her feet. She began to cough and swallowed hard as she tried to drink down the acid in her mouth. Nothing had come up this time as her stomach had already been drained from earlier.

The ranger asked, "Are you alright? Is it something you've eaten?"

Ursa said dryly, "No"

There was no use in hiding it now.

She said, "I've been feeling unwell this last week or so. A cold sweat comes upon me. My stomach is uneasy. Every morning this happens. My chest has been hurting me too. I feel swollen. Talion, I don't know what's happening to me."

Ursa turned to the other woman and asked, "Lady Lithariel, do you think your physicians could be of assistance?"

Lithariel seemed petrified, as if taken back in disbelief.

Ursa continued, "Although… I do not know if there is a remedy for this. This is like no disease I've ever suffered from. I fear it is a curse."

Lithariel at last, returned to her senses. She had so many questions right now for Ursa.

"Ursa," began Lithariel, "I need to ask you something personal. Have you and Talion been… have you slept together?"

Talion's voice exploded across the room as he asked, "What are you asking?"

He turned to see Ursa's cheeks had turned red.

The half-Orc answered, "… w-we… yes."

Lithariel said, "Your breasts have been swollen. That is what you meant earlier, isn't it?"

"It is, yes."

The blonde woman began to laugh heartily as she placed her arms to her hips.

Talion's brows furrowed as he asked, "What is wrong with you? Ursa is suffering."

Lithariel said, "Forgive me. I was afraid it was something more serious. Come now, Talion. You were married. You had a son. Do you not recognize what has become of Ursa?"

Celebrimbor and Talion both blinked and gasped. They turned to look at Ursa who only blinked.

"Ursa…" asked Lithariel, "You may be pregnant."

Ursa replied swiftly, "That is not possible. I… I am a half breed. Never has a half breed conceived, no less given birth."

Lithariel said, "You have lived far longer than any half breed, have you not? In a season, you will be celebrating your twenty fifth birthday."

Ursa said, "You are mistaken. I am ill and in poor health, no different than any other. It is fortunate I have lived so long. Nonetheless, my body is imperfect. I cannot create life."

Lithariel said, "I know the symptoms of pregnancy. Ursa… there is a life within you."

Talion was frozen and Ursa mirrored his expression.

She said, "It cannot be. It would be a miracle. It cannot…"

Talion let out a deep breath as he recovered for a moment. He turned to his pregnant fiancé and reached out to her. Ursa turned to him as his warm hand fell gently upon her cheek. She gazed deeply into his eyes and saw his love, his fear, his happiness, his excitement, and his kindness. She felt the realization begin to hit her.

He said, "You must forget those fears of yours. Ursa… you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are not going to die like the others nor are you doomed to meet their fates. This life that stirs within you is proof enough of that. Ursa, you are going to be a mother."

Ursa's eyes widened. They began to well with tears of relief. She collapsed to the cold stone ground as her friends and allies looked upon her with marvel. She felt her tears begin to stream down her face and watched as they collected beneath her. She felt the memory of her mother begin to weaken. Those fears that had always remained with her. That she was fated for all misery, a fate that life had always reinforced. Was it possible there was hope yet?

She realized knew then there was hope. For she had become Warchief, just as she had always dreamed. And Talion had reciprocated her love and sought her hand in marriage. Now she had a chance to have a family with him. She felt a sudden warmth come over her. A joy she hadn't felt since that day he confessed to her. It was a fragile hope that she would be alright, that life was not simply a series of failures.

"I…. I'm going to be a mother?"

She now felt her mind succumb to a variety of thoughts. Fear of motherhood, terror at a failure of childbirth, and knowing that her child was born into a world at war. However, after a minute, her mind settled down at last. There was something precious within her. Her slender hands began to cradle her stomach, wondering at what rested within her womb. Her eye focused on it, hoping she would catch a glimpse of her child. Ursa then returned her gaze to the man that stood beside her, realizing who he was in all of this.

She said, "Talion… you're going to be a father again."

She looked up to see Talion was smiling at her, his eyes were brimming with tears and pride. It was a second chance for him to have a family. As for Ursa, it was a hope for a better life.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Please note that this sequel takes place during the ending of _Ursa the Weakling_. It occurs after the section where Talion proposes to Ursa, but before he sails across the sea of Núrnen.

One might remember Ursa was quite sinister by the end of my last story. However, as I typed out this sequel, I found it disappointing to write Ursa so suddenly and drastically different than her original self. I've decided to portray Ursa more like she was before accepting Sauron's powers, more kind and worried but with moments of ruthlessness to show the change. Whether she is slowly being possessed in this story remains to be seen (as of chapter one).

I'd like my readers to know that a new chapter should be released every Saturday. As this work is completed, you will definitely see the entire story.


	2. The Hearts Entwined and the Threat

**Chapter Two: The Hearts Entwined and the Threat of Death**

Talion stared blankly in the mirror of Ursa's room. Right now, she lay passed out on the bed, finding herself in need of a long sleep to settle her mind. The ranger had been focused on his reflection for some time. He did not pay any attention to the length of his stubble or the messiness of his long hair. Rather his mind had fallen elsewhere.

"Talion… you're going to be a father again."

That is what she had told him. She had reaffirmed what he should have known all too clearly. What ran through him now was an unbridled joy, the same as when Ioreth had announced she was pregnant with Dirhael. However similar the reaction, there were some major differences. He recalled fondly how he had panicked at the thought of being a father. He was no longer plagued with worries of ignorance on parenthood. Rather, Talion had completely different fears.

"This is no place for a child," said Talion, "I did not think I would be a father again. I… I am a corpse. Without you, I would fade away. I did not think a child was possible for either of us."

Celebrimbor said within him, "It is unexpected. Nevertheless, I did warn you there would be dire consequences. Just as you sought to protect Ursa, you must now protect this newborn. You will have to sacrifice much for them. They will haunt your mind, clouding you with fears as you desperately attempt to escape old horrors. They threaten to end all that we have accomplished and all that we seek. That as it may be, I implore you to turn your love into hatred for Sauron. If your wife and child are to survive, if they are to be happy… The Dark Lord must fall."

Talion said, "I know this well. I have not forgotten. How can I? I shall never forget or forgive the enemy. Sauron shall perish, but only once the Black Hand has paid dearly."

Celebrimbor said, "Then we must move soon. It's time to expand our army."

"I agree," said Talion, "However, there is something I wish to do first. After it is done, I promise you I will devote every moment to our hunt."

"What could be of such importance" asked the Wraith, "that you would delay our mission?"

Talion said, "A promise. A promise I will forever regret if I do not fulfill it now."

Talion said no more. Rather, he took his secret to the next room.

* * *

Ursa's eye, still aglow with Sauron's fires, stirred and flew open. She pulled herself up from her warm covers, feeling the bite of the afternoon air. For a moment, she felt a sense of relief. The sickness which she had feared would overtake her was not an ailment of the world or of the enemy. In its place, was a calm and subtle gladness. Within her stirred a son or daughter without name. She wondered how to nurture it, how to mother it, how to ensure it grew up strong and healthy. Her memories suddenly turned to her mother. She felt the crushing words of her mother again, as if she were still just a child. Those words had haunted her through all her years. How she wished to be rid of them!

 _It will be different for my child. I will raise them up with praises and wisdom. Talion will protect them and shower them in affection. Never will we seek to break this little one down._

Her heart now sunk. She thought of the trials that lay ahead. A moment later this fear expanded and engulfed her completely. Again, her blood came to burden her. A shrill terror overcame her as she felt the terror of all mothers in Middle Earth.

 _Will my child live?_

 _What if my baby is born dead?_

Even if it survived for a day, would it be sick? Would it die shortly after? No, she doubted it would even carry through. After all, her body was sickly as it was. Could an infant be born from such a weak mother? Could someone half Orc and half human successfully give birth? She did not know. It had never been done before. Would Talion's resurrected body cause troubles as well? What would a child of a Half-Orc and a man look like? Would it be deformed and scorned by the world?

Such fears threatened to destroy her. However, Ursa could not help but cradle her stomach, trying to protect the fledgling within her. She pleaded dearly for its safety, for its happiness. She begged and bargained with whatever forces oversaw the world. With whatever grace had given her Talion, she asked that her child now have it. Her happiness meant nothing now. She was blessed enough to have known it for the last year. She would accept eternal darkness if it meant saving her baby from it.

"Please…." she asked as she choked on tears, "Please don't kill my child."

* * *

Ursa stood with her arms crossed at the head of her old camp. She stared down the mud road that had only been recently carved out for the Orcs in Núrn. Behind her was the glistening Sea of Núrnen whose beauty she no longer could see clearly. Instead, her attention was focused on the caravan of wagons pulling in from her base in Mordor. Isulek, her right hand, now controlled both the fortresses of Goth and Udadruk. He sent her wagons of supplies such as Grog, horses, farm animals, and iron ore ready to be crafted. In turn, she sent wagons of the fertile soil of the coast, seedlings, and the thick timber she had begun to hew down.

 _Isulek…._

Her memory of him was a fond one. It was Isulek who had supported her. In truth, he was her first love, although those feelings had faded. However, she still missed him dearly.

 _Alas, it is better you remain there. Better you never know my true dealings._

While Isulek was loyal to her, she doubted he would approve of her treason against Mordor and her dealings with the Gravewalker. With Isulek safely in Gondor's outer rim, she would not need to have him branded. For now, he was safe from her tyranny.

A powerful wind crashed against her, sending her long black ribbons of hair and the tails of her robe fluttering madly about. She scowled now as she looked forward to the ending of the road where the last wagon was climbing over. Her mind ached. It assaulted her with all manner of fears. She could not help but think of her child at every moment. She could not help but dwell on Talion. Ursa's mind was sorting through the massive inventory of her keep, plotting a war of bartering and attrition. It went ahead to the climax of the war. She saw the gathering of her forces, all Orcs in Núrn and her army camped outside Mordor. It returned to the immediate threat of the Black Captains. Great ships would need to be built to cross the sea and reach their dark fortress.

Ursa's mind could not stop to rest for even a moment. It could no longer be silent. Ever since Talion had freed her from Belos, plotting was what had kept her going. Only when alone with Talion did she have moments of peace. However, if the gears that turned so readily in her mind stopped too long, perhaps she could never start them up again. Perhaps she would return, as she so often did, to the dungeon where Belos had stripped her naked and branded her. Where he had personally whipped her until the flesh began to hang off her limbs. Where his henchmen tore out her eye and fed it to the Wargs. Six days of endless torture hat felt like an eternity. Would she return to the arena where she was shamed in front of hundreds of Uruks and forced to watch as the executioner prepared his final blow. She would be walking to her execution, standing beside the Hammer. There she hung on a noose, gasping so desperately for air as the rope crushed her throat. Her arms pulled on the rope trying to find the tiniest puff of air and her legs dangled about, begging to find anything to hold her up. There was Talion saving her on both occasions. There was Talion preparing to lop her head off for simply being an Orc. She begged to him for mercy, but his cruel gaze would offer her none. A rock smashed against her head as the Gondorians chased her out of town back into the wilderness. The heartless beatings of her mother bruised her as she whimpered and cowered in fear.

Ursa grit her teeth. Her heart was racing and a cold sweat coated her face and back. The harsh wind from the sea lashed out at her like a whip. A silent noose was back on her. The fire in her eye lit up as she scowled and defied the entirety of the world. The grass around her began to catch fire. The morning dew turned to steam.

"Ursa…"

A voice that drew her back to the world. A voice that beckoned warmly to her.

The fire vanished with the next gust of wind.

Ursa turned around to see her love standing in front of her.

"Ursa…."

His eyes were full of concern and worry.

"You are safe."

The harsh wind was silent. Talion's arms were around her. The warmth of his body gave her life. She could breathe. Her slender arms wrapped around his broad back as he pulled her in. He knew. Somehow, he knew she was suffering. Each day, he too was tormented by his helplessness to save those he loved. No words were needed to explain what tormented her or him. He was here to save her, if for but a moment. In return, she would save him. That was what it meant to be in love.

* * *

Ursa walked into her bedroom, past her armed guards. Her eye scanned around for the Gravewalker, but he had not arrived yet. She wondered where he had gone off to, where he went off to each day. It was one thing to be scouting out Orc outposts, but he had done none of that. For the last several days, he focused on some secret task. Whatever it was, Celebrimbor was forced into silence. Whatever it was, Queen Marwen and her daughter were also aware of it. Furthermore, it required their support.

Ursa put a finger under her chin as she wondered about it. She now began to suspect that it was something involving herself.

HUUUUUSSSHH

A nostalgic chill ran down her spine. She was back in the forest, beckoned by the lure that had preyed upon many Uruk. For her, it was both romantic and exciting. She turned towards her window where Celebrimbor and Talion stood as one, illuminated and proud.

"My lady," said Talion, "What keeps you awake at such an hour?"

Ursa smiled and answered, "I wait upon the return of my ranger. He slips about to and fro. Alas, he keeps his mistress vexed and waiting."

"M-mistress?" repeated Talion.

He heard Celebrimbor make a slight grunt of disgust.

Talion slipped through the window and into her abode. He walked up to Ursa and placed his hands around hers. She looked up at him in wonder, her golden eye waiting eagerly for his reply. It was enough to make his ears heat up.

He spoke, "I'm afraid I have not come to retire for the evening. I have come to fetch you."

She tilted her head and asked, "Fetch me?"

"We have a long journey ahead through orc territory. We must go through the cover of darkness."

"And where to?"

"The Queen's estate. There a wedding is being held."

Ursa's eye widened.

"I can wait no longer." said Talion, "I need you now. Will you marry me at the light of dawn? Will you be mine now and forever?"

"I will!" said Ursa without a second thought.

Celebrimbor appeared now beside his host. He turned to Ursa and said, "You are far too kind to him. A wedding is to be announced far before the day of celebration. Alas, your husband to be is far too fond of surprises."

Ursa said, "I've certainly never heard of a surprise wedding. Nevertheless, it is welcome. It will be done in the custom of the tribesmen?"

"It will," said Talion who wanted very much to strangle the wraith.

Ursa said, "I have once seen a Gondorian wedding. I wonder what our ceremony will be like."

Talion asked, "Do you Uruk have weddings?"

Ursa shook her head and replied, "We do not. After conceiving, our men and women go their separate ways. The father returns to his legion and the mother is left to care for her infant."

"I see…" said Talion, "Then we will have none of that. I was promised by Queen Marwen that this will be a grand wedding fitting for a king and queen."

Ursa gasped.

"All this for us? I… Always you are thinking of me. I don't know how to repay you."

"Exchange vows with me," said Talion, "That would be enough for me."

"I'm going to be married!" said Ursa in jubilee.

Talion was quite amused right then. His fiancé seemed completely lighthearted. She clasped her arms together and shuffled her legs as if she were wanting to dance. Even the Wraith managed a smile. Talion would not let it pass.

He turned to the Elf and asked, "Celebrimbor, are you happy? I did not think you would approve."

"As if you ever listen to me," said the Wraith, "I will admit your wife is… amusing."

Talion narrowed his gaze and said, "She's spoken for I'm afraid."

"Do not test me Talion."

* * *

In the thick of night, a single horse galloped through the cold hills. Its riders were without guard as they avoided the Orc patrols. Ursa looked up at the moon as its fullness began to show the first signs of darkness. Still, it gleamed proudly upon her. She turned to look at the sea. It was a mirror of the heavens. Although the stars were hidden, it shimmered as a celestial pearl was reflected upon it. Ursa's heart was racing as she thought upon her wedding day. She had imagined it at times when she lived among the race of men in Gondor. However, those dreams had quickly been buried. When Talion proposed to her, it was at a challenging time. Still, she was happy enough to receive his engagement ring and did not think upon their wedding. She believed Talion and Celebrimbor would focus only on the war. And so, this night was her night. The morning would be her morning. Although her child was always on her mind, her fears subsided for the moment. She would dream of the white day ahead of her.

The journey was long and cold. For Ursa, it passed in a moment. Talion road meticulously, guided by his instincts as a ranger. His sharp memory recalled each of the Orc patrols along the way. He knew when to let them pass, where to turn to avoid them, and when to pass them. Each turn of the hill, he rode with such care that Ursa never felt herself tossed about. It was not long before they came to the home of the Tribesman. A great hall surrounded by small homes and farmlands. This place was hidden from the Uruk and guarded by the great hunters. Ursa had yet to see it clearly. When last she visited, it too was dark. However, she knew in the morning she could truly appreciate the home of Marwen, daughter of the pirate lords.

* * *

Ursa and Talion strode through the main hall of Marwen's small palace. Ursa noticed the eyes upon her. The Queen's guards watched her with suspicion, just as they had on their last meeting. Seeing an Orc walking about the palace was unsettling to them. Even more, Ursa knew they realized her to be half-Orc and such, were filled with disgust. She tried to ignore their gaze and made the best of the evening.

The Queen's throne room was rather quaint in its small size. It was filled to the brim with all manner of furnishings. There were lanterns, chandeliers, closets, bookshelves, grand organs, tapestries, scrolls, and desks covered in maps and treasures. It was less the home of a great queen of land and more of the home of a queen of the sea. Ursa could not help but stand mouth agape at the sight of the queen. The last time they had met, the Queen had looked deathly ill, as if her skin was beginning to rot. Now, she seemed to be in her early forties, with shimmering black hair and a proud air about her. Talion had informed her of the change, but seeing it with her own eyes was quite different.

Both Talion and Ursa bowed in unison before the sitting queen.

Talion stated, "We thank you for welcoming us into your kingdom."

"A celebration in your honor," said Marwen, "is a small payment for the debt I owe you."

Talion said, "I hope you will not see it as such. I hope you will view us as allies and as good friends."

The Queen said, "All the more reason to accept your request."

Lithariel, standing beside her mother, said, "The Queen was overjoyed to hear about the wedding."

Ursa wondered if that was true.

Marwen said, "Well, the last wedding I have attended in all these years was my own."

Ursa asked, "That sounds like a fascinating story. I would love to hear it."

The Queen responded, "It was to a young pirate named Denovan. My father was a captain of the last Corsair fleet. I was his right hand, leading my own flotilla. Denovan fought for an enemy faction. The day came when our fleets clashed. I boarded his ship, the swords of my comrades about me. I dueled him for what seemed like hours when at last I disarmed him. He asked me to kill him honorably but I made him my gracious prisoner. Our marriage was a sign of peace, but not without its beauty. So swiftly we fell in love. Our marriage was on an island on the western banks, against the red setting sun. Naturally, this was long before I settled here with my fellow tribesmen."

Ursa smiled warmly. She said, "Thank you for entertaining us. It sounds like a love fitting for a great romantic tale."

"Ah… alas, I have lost myself in ancient memory" said the Queen, "Tonight and the morrow is for you."

Lithariel said, "Indeed, the hour grows late. Shall I escort you two to your room?"

Talion said, "I think that would be best. Nevertheless, I wonder if I will be able to sleep on the eve of the wedding? I feel terribly anxious."

Marwen said, "At the very least, your bride will be with you. I'm sure you two will find a way to pass the hours. The walls are quite thick, if such knowledge is of interest to you."

Lithariel quickly said, "Mother!"

Meanwhile both Ursa and Talion blushed, quickly hiding behind the princess.

Marwen added, "You must forgive me. It is amusing to tease those so readily in love. Sleep soundly tonight. You are safe here. Let no ill dream mar this night for no danger shall slip into these halls. Go now and find peace."

Talion bowed briskly to the Queen and made off with his fiancé.

As they turned to a hall of rooms, Talion looked ahead to the maiden they so closely trailed.

He asked, "Lithariel, forgive me for my curiosity but, what became of your father?"

Lithariel said, "I know very little of him. He died before the Queen took me in."

"You must know how he died."

She stopped in her tracks.

Swiftly, the ranger said, "I beg your forgiveness. It is not my place to ask."

The maiden said, "It is not for my sake I feel uneasy. It is for yours. Her husband did not remain in Núrn long after their marriage. Both were fixated on restoring the Corsairs to their former glory. To do so, Denovan smuggled spices on Gondor's rivers. He was captured by their soldiers and executed for his crimes."

Talion said, "I… I did not imagine."

Lithariel responded, "Please do not think the Queen bears a grudge. His death was in no part to the rangers of the Black Gate nor to the Captain of the Watch. You were a child as I was when it he died. Please think on it no longer."

"Very well," said Talion, "Goodnight Lithariel."

"And to you Talion," said the blonde woman, "and to you Ursa of Mordor."

"Lady Lithariel," said Ursa, "Thank you. For your advice last we met and for agreeing to all of this."

Lithariel smiled lightly and bowed to them. She strode briskly back to the Queen's throne room.

* * *

Queen Marwen now stood up from her throne. She stretched her arms, letting the long black sleeves of her fabric flap about. She removed the golden crown that sat on her forehead.

"Talion has no reason to feel guilt. None here think ill of Gondor," said the Queen, "Were not they the masters of these lands long ago? Many of the stone keeps, the rivers, and farmlands we use were of their making. In a way, aiding Talion is how we thank them."

The Queen let out a yawn and said, "In any case, I believe it is time I too retire."

Lithariel asked, "Mother, does none of this bother you?"

Marwen replied, "I was wondering when you would speak of this."

Lithariel said, "I do not wish to be hard-headed. I do not dislike Ursa. I wish her happiness. However, this marriage is… unnatural. She is Uruk, a creature twisted and cursed by Sauron. Half-orc or not, I struggle to approve of such a union. Worse, they are with child."

"It is only reasonable" said Marwen, "She is Orc yes. Their kind are all together evil. That may it be, this Warchief is certainly more charitable than the rest. What I find amusing is your issue with Ursa corrupting the marriage when the ranger is a corpse possessed by an ancient Elf lord. There is nothing suitable about their vows. I too fear that it will bring disaster. I fear for Ursa as a mother and as one who was a wife."

Lithariel said, "I do not wish to feel this way. However, I believe such a corruption of nature will end in tragedy."

"Perhaps so," stated her mother, "What then will you do? Will you wish happiness upon them or retribution?"

"I would choose happiness" said her daughter.

The Queen said, "Then tomorrow we will gift them with a wedding they shall never forget. Let it be a light in the darkness that now consumes Middle Earth."

"As you will it Mother," said Lithariel, "so it shall be done."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : In the game, Marwen's estate is painted as a stone fortress by the sea side. While magnificent, I feel it would have been discovered too easy so I moved it inland.

Marwen refers to herself as a corsair out of pride. However, one could argue she is actually a tribesman (and ex-pirate) descended from the collapsed Corsair empire.


	3. The Wedding and the Entwining of Hearts

**Chapter 3. The Wedding in Núrn and the Entwining of Hearts**

When the next morning arose, Ursa scurried out of bed. Her fiancé was still passed out, sleeping quite soundly to her relief. She looked out the window to see the morning sun embroidering the Queen's garden in gold. She could see the feint reflection of the Sea of Núrnen in the distance. She wanted to more clearly see the palace so she slipped on a morning robe and trotted outside.

"Good morning" said a familiar voice.

Ursa stopped in her tracks, only inches from the exit of her room. She turned slowly to see the ghost of Celebrimbor beside her. His shrunken-corpse like features were in full view. Ursa did not think much of them. She had softened to the sight long ago.

"Good morning my lord," said the half-Orc.

"Where might you be off to on your beloved wedding day?" asked the Elf, "Perhaps you intend to flee from this all?"

Ursa did not know how to answer, but decided to play along. She said, "I did not take you for a jester Lord Celebrimbor."

He said, "If you were to escape. It might be better for us all."

Ursa said, "I know that you do not approve of any of this. I know I keep Talion from his duties. Nevertheless, I too am involved in this war against Mordor. Even if I were not by his side, I would still pursue the freedom of the Orc."

"I do not doubt you resolve," said Celebrimbor, "What I fear is the pain. Can Talion bear to lose another wife and child yet again? Can you live in a world where he does not exist?"

"I do not know," said Ursa, "Should I then run? Run from love? Run from the chance of loss? I am tired of running away. I will not be branded a coward any longer. I will pursue all things. I will pursue happiness. I will pursue victory. I will pursue the death of the Dark Lord."

Celebrimbor smiled. He said, "As I said, I do not doubt your resolve. Of that, I am now fully assured. I will trouble you no more on the matter."

Ursa smiled back now, wanting to acknowledge the first smile she had seen from him. She wondered on his own pain, on his own loneliness. Talion had gained another family, but Celebrimbor had not. His pain was far older and yet he still clung to it. He clung to the memory of a family brutally murdered by Sauron before his very eyes. In any case, she saw a different side of him in this very moment. A happier person.

He said to her, "It is true that you weaken Talion in some ways. Still, I must admit, you strengthen him in others. He knows he is fortunate to have you. So then, be sure to insist he treat you as a queen. You deserve nothing less."

Ursa's lips were sealed in silence. There was a pink tint upon her cheeks. She had not expected such words from the sharp-tongued wraith. She recalled he had complimented her when she was the first to discover Marwen was under the control of dark magic. However, she had thought he despised her for being an Orc and a distraction to Talion. How long had he felt this way about her? To have his respect meant the world to her.

Ursa bowed and said, "I am undeserving of such words. I hope you will enjoy this day just as I shall."

The Elf lord said nothing. He shut his eyes and vanished from her sight. She did not know if he remained or went. It was within his power to decide who saw him. As it was, he had showed himself only to Talion and to herself. Not even the Queen had seen him even as Saruman forced her to tear him from his host. Of course, she recalled, Celebrimbor revealed himself to his victims as he entered their minds.

 _How frightening that must be._

The Half-Orc resumed her pace, moving to the front door of the estate. She hoped the guards had not heard her speaking to what must have appeared to be the air. Even if they knew of the Wraith, it was still an awkward sight no doubt. Ursa coughed animatedly, trying her best to pretend the conversation had not happened. However, as Ursa reached the front door, the tribesmen blocked her way.

"Halt," said one guard, "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to wander about."

"I merely wish to see the sunrise upon the Queen's estate."

"You are here by the Queen's intent alone. We cannot allow an Orc to scout the fortress, to count the guards, and make ill on idle time. If you wish to leave, a guard will watch you at all times."

"Very well," said Ursa with a tilted frown, "Then I will hurry lest I keep you from more pressing duties."

The guards seemed satisfied by this as they opened the front door. One followed behind her as Ursa fluttered about in the direction of the garden. Her eyes flickered from the bright rays of the morning sun. It turned the green of the Queens proud trees into a royal tint of gold. Ursa could now see the mansion more clearly. It was made of wood mostly, likely built out of the pirate ships she had sailed into the harbor long ago. The top of the mansion curved upward with windows spiraling about its frame. Great oaks and other trees hid it, as did the mountains and hills it was nested between. About the mansion were small farms, wooden houses, and huts. This was the last free territory in Núrn, so it was said. The only sanctuary left in the gulf of Gondor's territories long ago claimed by the land of Mordor.

The tweeting of birds as they played in the trees brought a certain warmth to Ursa's heart. She danced about, letting her sleeves and robes trail after her movements. The guard watched with suspicion and surprise as the Half-Orc rejoiced. She did not care if she was seen right now. Soon she would be married. She refused to think beyond it. To do so would invite dark doubts about the future of her land and the starlight within her womb.

* * *

Ursa stood in a small dressing room, surrounded by Lithariel and several handmaidens. She was shaking as the anxiety of the wedding stimulated her nerves. Meanwhile, the women were adjusting the wedding dress accordingly. As Talion had insisted on a surprise wedding, Ursa's dress did not perfectly fit her. The maidens were quickly hemming and stitching to improve it.

Lithariel asked, "Try walking about in it. Is it comfortable?"

Ursa said, "It is a little tight around the chest."

Lithariel replied, "Yes. We were not expecting you to be so… gifted. Oh dear, I hope we can get the preparations ready in time."

Ursa said, "If I had known about this, I would have gladly stayed up last night to do so."

The other woman said, "I hear you are something of a strategist. Perhaps it would have saved us."

"My lady," said a handmaiden, "Please remain still. Let us see if it fits you."

Ursa froze in front of the mirror. She saw the young woman slip a long lace garb over her. The wedding veil fell down to her back. Ursa gulped as she wondered how Talion would think of her. She was not a master of clothing. Like most Uruk, her understanding of style was about how imposing one's armor looked. Her robes were all designed by others and she was easily impressed by all of them. That being said, she could tell the white of her wedding dress did not do her pale features any services. Many of the handmaidens seemed to agree as they slipped subtle grimaces behind her, although some were simply off put that Talion was marrying from the race of the enemy.

Ursa could only sigh and hope for the best.

* * *

Talion tried to calm his breathing as he waited for his bride. He was dressed in a dark blue robe with a black cape with a white fur trim. His long messy hair was properly combed to the side for once. His stubble, which had become something of a beard, was completely shaved off. He looked cleaner than he had been in many years, even before the Uruk invasion. On his hand, was the ring of the husband, an elven ring of silver and jade given to him by Celebrimbor from his treasure trove. Behind him sat Queen Marwen, in a dress of white with golden sleeves, sitting elegantly on a masterfully carved chair. Her daughter was beside her, wearing a grey dress with a blue garb over it. Judging by how she shifted about, Talion figured she was not accustomed to wearing dresses. He looked forward now, at the cobblestone pathway from the mansion where his bride would be stepping upon. The Queen's garden was fully decorated with tapestries, fabrics, and tents. Her friends and guards were seated about for the special day.

Talion let out another sigh as he tried to still his heart. For most of the morning, he hadn't felt nearly as nervous as he had when he married Ioreth. However, this last hour had reminded him that he was still human in some way. He felt as nervous as a young boy on his first courting. He would be married to the love of his life. They would face the future together. They would experience pain and happiness.

"Talion… you don't need to worry so."

He remembered the words of Hirgon, one of his most trusted members of the watch. The ranger smiled as a younger Talion wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I'm…" said Talion, "I'm not ready. I can't… I'm a mess. I…"

"Nonsense. All grooms say the same. Stand tall Captain of the Watch… defender of Gondor. Stand tall and ready yourself. She is coming. The love of your life arrives."

 _The love of my life?_

Out stepped Ioreth from the shadows of a stone archway. Flowers fluttered about as children laughed and frolicked on the golden day. She was beautiful. More beautiful than any woman to him. Her long brown hair was tied back as a veil of white and a crown of flowers graced her head. As she strode to him, her smile was affectionate and filled with confidence. Not a trace of fear was shown in her eyes. Talion blushed as he realized she would be his. Seeing her so ready to be married gave him strength. They would be together forever. That was what he thought. That dream was shattered, but he did not regret it. He was not saddened as it faded away in light of a new day.

 _Ursa…_

Out she walked. The crowd was silent as they saw the Warchief. The sight of her filled many with fear while others felt ill as they witnessed the unholy union. Her long black hair shimmered like the night. It reached to her back as it hovered in the air. She had on a white veil over her features, obscuring her equally light skin. Her train, ten feet in length, followed after her. Her long grey claws were clasped onto a bouquet of flowers. On her finger was the ring of the bride, white as pearls and with a pocket of silver diamonds in the middle. A gift from Queen Marwen, one of her many plunders. She walked slowly, each stride shaking her willowy frame. He could make out a glimpse of her face. She was not confident as Ioreth was. She was sweating and shivering about. However, as Ursa saw him, she blushed and smiled lightly. Her eyebrows were raised. She could not hide her bashfulness. No, she was not Ioreth. Her nervousness made Talion less ashamed of his own weakness. She understood him.

Talion's rough fingers slipped beneath her white headpiece. As he pulled it back, he saw her lengthy black bangs were swept to the side, showing the entirety of her face. Her black leather eye patch was gone as a white strand of cloth was in its place, a silk flower upon it covering her eye. Her golden red eye looked up at him and her mouth parted. She as so beautiful to him. The flowers upon her dress did her no justice. His hand slid up her cheek. Ursa shut her eyes and nuzzled against his hand. Her skin, cold as death, found comfort in his touch. The roughness of his fingers, armored from his days in the wilderness, protected her. The Warchief looked up to see Talion enamored by her. Her heart was bursting out of her chest. She did not fill hideous in that moment. She did not feel alone. She understood that Talion adored her and that he always would.

"I do not know," wondered Ursa to herself, "What good deed I have done to deserve him. I only know that I will never let go. Oh Talion… thank you!"

She gazed up into his gorgeous eyes of the lightest blue. How handsome he looked dressed and combed so! Though she swooned as his rough hunter appearance, today he looked majestic like a prince. With his beard shaved away, she could see how sharp his jawline was and it took many years off him. His silken robes did little to hide his muscular arms and broad shoulders as she stood next to him, his very form inviting her in.

Marwen stood up now. The bride, the groom, and the crowd bowed as the Queen prepared to wed the new couple.

She said, "Here we stand amidst the shadow of Mordor. Even in these trying times, we find hope. Here, a man and a woman are bound together by love."

The Queen continued, "There is a story passed down amongst the Corsairs. They speak about a fisherman who found a young maiden floating amidst wreckage. He pulled her out lest she be dashed against the shore. Quickly they fell in love and were joined in marriage. For many years, they were together. Then one day, the maiden cried before her husband. She said that the sea now called her back. She should have died that day, as her ship was pulled down by a raging storm, but she begged for a chance to find happiness. The man wept as he watched her walk into the ocean and make her way to the depths. In his sorrow, he took his ship into a storm and called out to her only to be pulled under by a great wave. It is said that they sunk to the floor where a town sits, built from the sunken ships of pirates and sailors. There they live in the stillness of the water. Too far into the depths for any wind or wave to push about. Forever, they are united. My people look to their love to find their own. The vows of marriage are inseparable if built on love. Even the sea itself must accept it and no land is worthy of it."

Marwen turned to the groom and asked, "Talion son of Gondor, do you take Ursa daughter of Mordor to be your wife? Do you vow to care for her in days of tribulation, to seek her happiness amidst all despair, and to love her dearly in all of your days together?"

Talion smiled and gazed down at his bride. She did not blink as she stared up at him. She had never known such vows, such words, such promises… She could not look away.

"I do."

Her eyes widened and tears began to stream down her face. Still, she gazed up at him.

"And you Ursa," asked the Queen, "Do you vow to do the same? Will you devote the best years of your life to your great love? Will you pursue his happiness amidst all dark days of this world, will you care for him, protect him, and love him dearly until death do you part?"

As she prepared her answer, the clouds above broke. A beam of light hit the garden and illuminated the groom. At that moment, even the ghostly color of his eyes disappeared. The golden iris of Sauron that plagued her seemed to vanish as well. She was no longer half Orc and half human. He was no longer a corpse brought to life at the bidding of dark servants and wraiths. There was no pain. They were merely two lovers brought together by fate.

"I will," she whispered.

"Then I give my blessing. You two are forever bound as husband and as wife."

Talion smiled and reached down. To his surprise, Ursa leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him in and kissed him passionately. The crowed was utterly shocked. It was strange enough to see she was an Orc in matrimony. For a woman to be so forward was equally unheard of. Ursa could not care any less. She let out a moan that thankfully only Talion could hear as she embraced him. Talion showed his responsiveness as he wrapped his arm around her back. As they pulled away, Ursa and Talion continued with several quicker kisses. As they parted, the petals of white roses and blossoms of Núrn rained about them. Ursa looked up to gaze at them. Marwen and her daughter now clapped; the crowed quickly followed in suit. Celebrimbor watched from beside them. A light smile was on his face as he watched the couple still tenderly holding each other. For a second, he fell into an old memory where he too was a young man so madly in love.

* * *

After their vows were exchanged, the bride and groom walked back to where a feast was being held. Small children ran at their feet, throwing petals to and fro. A fiddle began to play, as did a flute and whistle. Ursa and Talion began to eat all sorts of fruits, creams, and small pastries. Talion watched as she smiled while eating the deserts. She had never been one for the rotten taste of Orc food or the brisk taste of their alcohol. She happily drank a cup of wine in its stead. However, she was sure to first pour one for her husband.

"Husband…." she whispered. It felt good to utter those words.

Soon dances were in order.

Ursa quickly swallowed her pastry and stiffened. Talion stood up and beckoned to her. She looked away, her face turning pink, a common color now for her.

"I've never danced," she began, "before so many people."

Talion replied, "Do not think of them. Right now, this day is ours. We are alone just as we were that night. Do you remember when we danced together in the moonlight? I called you with a fell voice and you slipped from your camp? Into the woods you so happily danced and sunk into my arms. Let us dance again Ursa."

"Lord Talion" she said with a face beginning to brighten up.

Ursa took hold of his hand and followed him onto the stone floor of the garden's main area. Their hands stretched out as Talion led them into an old Gondorian dance. It did not perfectly match the melody of the Corsair instruments, but it was the proper dance for a ranger and his wife. Ursa gazed at the ring on her finger. How it glittered so spectacularly in the afternoon light! She fluttered and spun about with her love. Her movements were not perfect, but were far smoother than they were in the forest. Her eyes left her ring and went to her feet. After she was comfortable with the routine of the dance, she stared only at Talion.

As the musicians played the last note, their dance came to an end. The other guests began to dance about. They danced with their wives and the younger men with the handmaidens. Lithariel danced with a captain of the guard for a time before retreating. Her mother was more ambitious. She slipped from partner to partner just as she had when she was a younger woman. Soon she even stole Talion for a bit. Fortunately, Talion slipped away as soon as he could, especially since his bride was pouting the entire time.

* * *

As evening came upon them, Talion decided to wish the crowd a goodnight. Ursa seemed to feel the same. They bowed to the Queen who was still happily drinking. She seemed to show no sign of winding down as she brought out more traditional Corsair instruments. Soon war drums and great sets of bells began to clang. The stage was set for a more intense style of dance. Talion half regretted not seeing it.

Instead, he picked up his bride. Ursa let out a small yelp of surprise as she was lifted off her feet. He carried her out of the garden and back into the estate. Ursa was a blushing mess as she was carried away from the crowd. She covered her face in embarrassment as she saw their eyes upon the newlyweds. Talion thought it was a far cry from the woman who had reeled her groom in for a kiss in front of everyone not but a few hours ago. Without a word, the Wraith departed, heading for some place within the mansion. He could not go far without harming Talion, but it gave them some privacy.

Ursa soon found herself laying sprawled out on the soft blankets of her bed. Her honeymoon of sorts had begun. She looked up to the Gravewalker whose hands were on each side of her. He looked down on her with such passion. Ursa thought he was the most attractive man in the world. She felt him descend upon her, his heated breath tickled the side of her neck which bristled as he kissed her tenderly there. The bride let out another moan as his lips made their way down her body. She soon wrapped her arms around him and began to roll over on the bed with him. Both were exhausted from the long day, but had enough energy left for this tender ending. As they slipped out of their clothes, Ursa's claws slid down Talion's back. His muscles buckled as he spread her legs apart and began to move. She let out another moan and the groom did the same. His breathes become ragged and messy. His hair was tussled about his face as he came down upon her again. Ursa looked up at the well-chiseled muscles of his body that entranced her so. She let her fingers dance across his old-scars from his earlier days, the ones that followed him from body to body. Her husband's hands pressed down upon one of her breasts as he kissed her passionately. The Orc arched her back in pleasure as she was assaulted with ecstasy on all fronts. Their lovemaking continued for another few minutes. Talion now tensed and let out a deep growl as he climaxed. Ursa's claws dug deep into the pillows and blankets, cutting into them. She let out a moan that turned into something of a hiss as she broke from the pleasure. Talion lay upon her now, panting into her ear. Ursa was equally winded. She kissed her love upon the ears and fell to sleep in his arms. Talion slipped into dream but a moment later. There was no time to think upon the beauty of their wedding as their wedding had drained them. The morrow would come and with it, the opportunity to savor their marriage. For now, its finale was of two lovers, deep in sleep who did not once stir. That night their dreams were silent and free of darkness.

* * *

Lithariel walked up to the door of the guest's bedroom. She tapped her fist upon it briskly and waited. A moment later, the door opened. To Lithariel's surprise, Talion was fully awake and dressed.

"Up so early?" asked the woman, "The Queen thought you two would never leave the room. It is past noon and time for brunch. Won't you and your bride join us?"

"In a few minutes," said Talion, "Ursa is having… difficulties. Her stomach is still quite sensitive."

"I see…" said Lithariel, "It must be troubling in a time of celebration for you both to deal with an unborn child."

"I believe it's harder on my wife than it is on me." said Talion. He relished on calling Ursa by such a word. It was most obvious in how he gave a proud smirk that caught Lithariel off guard.

Lithariel's eyes widened as she saw bruising up and along the ranger's neck.

"Or perhaps I am mistaken," said the princess, "It seems your wife is quite… vigorous. Or perhaps you were attacked by a ravenous wolf."

"A-ah" said Talion, rubbing his head as he looked away for a moment.

He muttered something that sounded like, "I think a wolf would be more merciful."

Lithariel grimaced in embarrassment, not having expected him to confirm her teasing.

"Well, I hope you will be able to join the Queen and I quite soon."

Talion said, "We shall."

He shut the door now and turned to look for Ursa. He found her wearing a set of fresh dark red robes that likely belonged to Lithariel. She looked tired and winded. She was slightly hunched over with a towel upon her mouth.

"Would you prefer we leave feasting for later?" asked Talion, "If you need more rest, I'm sure the Queen will wait."

"I have a child on the way. Lithariel said that I must become accustomed to being winded. She also said I must eat for two. The baby is hungry I am sure."

Talion said, "Lithariel was a midwife for many expecting mothers. We must follow her advice."

"Besides," said Ursa, "I fear I will never leave this room otherwise."

"Well," said Talion, "that does not sound like a bad thing."

"My lord…" said Ursa with a giggle.

"Call me 'Talion'. You do not serve me."

"A wife that does not serve her husband?" asked Ursa.

Talion said, "Long ago I would have said yes. It was my w-Ioreth who scolded me until I saw otherwise."

"Then I am grateful to her… my lord."

Talion said, "Ursa, what did I just say?"

Ursa giggled and said, "What do you mean my dear? Do you mean to order me not to?"

"Only married a day," he said with a smile, "and my wife has begun her teasing. What an ill-omen. So then, shall we go?"

"Yes" said his wife.

Talion reached down for his sword. However, he paused as he remembered he had no need of it. He took in a deep breath as he walked down the hall.

"She is safe here" he said to himself.

"Talion"

Her voice was clear and grave. Talion stopped in his tracks. He spun around to look at Ursa. She stood motionless, her eyes were to the ground.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"Do you think…."

"What troubles you Ursa?"

"It is nothing," she said, "I am just wondering about what foods are best for our child."

"You worry too much," said Talion, "Come now. Our little one is hungry."

In truth, she did not have the heart to ask the question that haunted her. The question that returned to her mind again and again. She would not see her husband burdened as she was burdened. His words of comfort were not worth the cost of his own. Though she knew a wife should be honest, she would hide it away and suffer in silence. The day would come when she would tell him, but for now she wanted them both to enjoy their wedding a little longer.

As they walked down the hall, Ursa stroked a finger against her wedding ring. She felt her anxieties wash away for a time, remembering their vows, kiss, and dance. So, another day would pass in peace and joy as the lovers celebrated their honeymoon.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This chapter was my favorite to write because of all the fluff and sickly sweetheart moments.

In contrast, the next chapter will introduce the Tower!


	4. The Tower and the Coming of Ships

**Chapter 4. The Tower Awakens and the Coming of Ships**

The Orc held onto its victim as it grinned madly. It seemed ill in the mind, as if free from all true emotions and thoughts. Ursa struggled helplessly against a tree, a blade, running through her palm, pinned her to it. She watched as the Gravewalker was taken from her.

The smiling Orc cried out, "To the Tower, to the Tower. Away with you."

In that moment, she gave in to power. She gave in to the Dark Lord's treachery. He rewarded her with fire. As she stretched out her hand, the smiling Orc was engulfed in flame. Just before he turned to ash, he stared directly at her. A voice came from his mouth but it was not of an Orc. It was clear and concise. It was dark and terrible.

To the Warchief and the lands of Núrn he made his decree.

"I will find you."

Ursa gasped as she flew up from her covers. His voice still resonated within her mind. Her entire body was covered in sweat and she panted as if she had been running for miles. Her heart was beating madly as she tried to escape it. She felt a great dread as if eyes were watching for her, searching for an opening.

Talion stirred and asked, "What is it? What troubles you?"

Ursa said, "We must leave Talion. We must claim these lands for our own and quickly. He is coming."

"Whom do you speak of?"

"The Tower. I fear we are running out of time."

* * *

There was a metallic creaking that permeated the air. It echoed throughout the coast. Back and forth swung red hooks. A lone Uruk wandered through the castle. It was hunched over, frail with blue skin and long ears nearly half a foot long. The architecture was not the stone of Gondor. It was a rusty iron with protrusions like spikes and saws. The Orc looked about for any trace of life. As it walked closer to the center of the complex, it jumped back in fear. On the hooks up ahead, it saw bodies pierced through the throat or chest. They dangled about like the flesh of cows and goats ready for the butcher to cut and sell. The Orc scurried forward now. It continued to search for any sign of life. A strange mist covered the area, obstructing its sight.

"My lord?" he asked, hoping for an answer through the fog. His voice echoed through the fortress.

The Uruk shut its eyes as it continued onward. Up ahead were large spires with blades running along it like a fine comb. On each spike were bodies and ligaments. They were not just those of prisoners of the tribes. They were Orcs. Arms, legs, and intestines were wrapped about. The ground itself was painted in dried blood.

"Come closer" said a voice.

The Orc froze as it saw one of its own approaching. It was a smaller Uruk with a smile of glee on its face.

"The master has been expecting you."

"Must be some mistake," said the fearful Orc, "I'm no use to 'em. Not some big Chief or muscled troll."

"That is for him to decide," said the Orc in a sophisticated tone of voice, "And he finds you a suitable messenger. You will be useful just as your brother was useful. Please, this way."

The Orc followed after him, checking behind him every few seconds.

He asked the smiling Orc, "My brother you say? Where's he at? Not seen 'em since you summoned him aways back."

The other Uruk said nothing. Instead, he bowed down at the feet of a strange throne. A throne of blood and iron seated at a backdrop of blades. Behind it flew a red flag of Mordor. And there he sat. The great evil. A pale fleshed man far past the age of the living. His flesh looked like it was ready to erupt out of his armor, armor that he outgrew some time ago. He appeared to stand over eight feet tall. He bore a set of white fangs outlined by a metal jaw that crushed his face. In his back were blades not attached by any device. They dug into his back and shoulders. Now his flesh was growing out over them. Whatever curse kept him alive, whatever method Sauron used to sustain him, no doubt caused him great pain.

Now beside the Tower stood a tall, thin man draped in exquisite black robes. Tied to his waist was a belt carrying a long black sword which his hand gently clung to. His face was well-hooded, and he remained still. His eyes were shut, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, likely by choice. This was his brother the Black Hand.

"Bow before the Tower" said the grinning Uruk.

The blue Orc quickly did so.

A sharp masculine voice said, "Rise. Join now your brothers and become my eyes. Become my flesh. Forsake your mind and submit to the all-seeing one."

The small blue Orc began to tremble. It looked to the sides of the Tower and the Black Hand where his guards were stationed. One was no doubt a blackguard, though dawning red armor. It was one of the chosen elites that served Sauron and his lieutenants. However, the rest were like the grinning Uruk. While from various parts of Mordor, they all bore the same smile, exposing their blackened fangs in a state of endless pleasure. The small Orc would have none of it. It quickly fled back the way it came, dashing into the mist. It ducked around a corner, trying to find the boat it had arrived in. However, no matter how far it ran, the Sea of Núrnen remained out of sight. The castle appeared the same from every direction. Endless spires of corpses. Wails and screams of those imprisoned. Torture machines covered in blood and organs.

Suddenly there were whispers and gentle breaths. The Orc saw figures appear from the mist. They were the Orcs from earlier, still sporting faces that showed their eternal bliss, their reward for serving their master.

"Join us" they said as one.

Their arms stretched out to grab the Orc from every direction. The pitiful blue Orc trembled in fear as they took him.

"Join us!" they said.

"We are legion."

* * *

"Queen Marwen, I implore you," argued Talion.

"I have no doubt this Black Captain will be arriving" answered the Queen, "This is not a matter of contention. What I do wonder is if it's possible to defend against this Black Captain. We are surrounded by the camps of great Orc chieftains. Our presence here is known and we must not risk discovery. Should the Tower arrive, we cannot set up proper defenses. We need scouts, stockades, rangers ready in the forests, barricades for the palace… all things I cannot give. I am afraid we must wait and see. We must strike down this enemy when they are vulnerable."

"He will only get stronger the longer he is here."

"Talion, I agree with you but I cannot risk our sanctuary being found. There are thousands of Uruk in Núrn. We would be destroyed."

Talion let out a deep sigh, no doubt born of frustration.

He knelt quickly and said, "So it shall be. I will find this menace on my own. I will inform you if there is an opportune moment to strike."

"Thank you Talion."

"I'm sorry Talion," said Lithariel who stood beside her mother, "I wish there was more we could do."

"As do I," he said before turning away.

Ursa bowed briskly as well and turned away to chase after Talion.

"It was a worthy try" said his wife.

Talion responded, "This is my fault…"

"Indeed, it is," said a sharp voice.

Besides the pair walked the illuminated spirit of the Elf.

He said, "You waited far too long. These lands should have been conquered months ago. We have no foothold in Núrn, not a single Warchief outside of our camp. We must change that at once. Any moment now, his ships may arrive. They will come from across the sea where Sauron's sons make their home."

As they reached the outside, Talion asked, "Indeed. But what will he do next? Will the Tower seek me out with his Black Orcs or setup refuge here?"

Ursa said, "I fear he is cunning, more cunning than us. I suspect he will gather the Warchiefs and begin to search for the Queen's location and yours. No doubt my arrival here is suspect now in Mordor. With the Warchiefs gathered, he will likely make Fort Morn his home. It is a fortified place that serves as a trading port for Thaurband, the City of Slaves. Its walls are high and there are hundreds of Orcs guarding it."

Talion said, "Then we must kill him before he does."

Ursa said, "That seems wise but… I fear he is hoping for that. We need to first know the nature of his powers. We know he can control Uruk as you do, but there may be more to his sorcery."

"And in our waiting," began Talion, "we will lose him forever. Once he enters the fortress, there will be no reaching him."

Ursa replied, "You scaled the Arena of Skamma did you not? It is within your grasp. Let us seek out the Warchiefs now and… and brand them. We will send their armies against the fort and you can assassinate him during the battle."

Talion winced at Ursa's words. It was still hard for him to hear her speak of possessing hundreds of Orcs and sending them to their deaths; all this done for the sake of killing the Tower. The plan was sound but it was not like her. When he had first described the branding, it had broken her and horrified her to her core. Now she suggested they use it. Talion gazed deeply into her iris. In it, he saw the flames of Mount Doom and a cold slit eye.

 _What am I thinking? This is my wife, not some servant of Sauron. All she has done has been against him. He failed to possess her. That is certain._

He pleaded silently that it was certain.

"Talion"

A soft voice tore him from the prison of his thoughts.

Ursa's eyebrows were raised in concern. She asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Let us speak more of this plan."

She said, "I understand you wish to kill the Tower before he can become a greater threat, but if we act hastily we may fall into a trap. Better to use this time to prepare our pieces."

"Ursa I cannot wait." he said, "He… he killed my family. I cannot waste time in a siege that may take ages. I will slay him before he knows I am there. I have killed the Hammer, the form of Sauron's strength. I do not fear this wretched underling."

Ursa said, "Please my lord, I beg of you. Do not go alone against him. I fear this foe is more dangerous than the others. Remember the Orc he sent. We underestimated it. He wants to take your mind and bring you to Sauron. We must distract him. I will lead the invasion. I will set his fortress ablaze and while he wonders on this power, you will have your chance. Please Lord Celebrimbor, do you not agree?"

"I…" said the Wraith slowly, "I am not sure. We know too little. Both these strategies carry great risk. If Talion is right, we can have a swift victory. It is true that we know little of the Tower's true power, but he knows little of ours. I believe we must slay him before he learns our secrets."

Ursa said, "Very well. I will prepare my Uruk to defend Queen Marwen if he should strike."

Talion said, "Thank you Ursa… I am sorry that our wedding celebration ended so soon and that you must worry of such things while you are with child. But I will not suffer this agent of the enemy to threaten our little one. I will make these lands safe for the both of you."

"Talion…" she said, her voice booming, "Swords and arrows may not be enough for him. He is cruel and deceitful. Give him no quarter."

The ranger replied, "I promise you the Tower will die."

* * *

Talion leapt atop his horse, riding hard from Ursa's camp. His first task was to take the nearby Warchief. Kalug the Humiliator was his name, an obese Orc who was cruel but good at running his lands. Ursa had sold most of her fortune for just a strip of his marsh. Talion thought about how she had spent months taming the swamps to turn into something where crops could grow. She spent little attention on that now as they both possessed powers that allowed them to simply take what they needed. If they took Núrn, she could grow all the crops she needed. She would be Queen of Núrn and hopefully, one day, Queen of Mordor as well.

As he rode, Talion felt his spine tingle. Something had stolen the heart from him. He looked to the skies that only minutes before had been painted in a shade of deep blue. Now it was painted black like smoke. He realized now that a storm-front poured in swiftly from the sea. He tugged hard on the reigns. His horse let out a shriek as it increased it pace. It sped through strips of trees until it came to the clearing of low green hills. Talion maneuvered his steed up the slope of one of the smaller hills. Reaching the top, he gazed towards the horizon. He could see the calm seas were in a frenzy as waves of unusual size came crashing against the coastline, disturbed by a sudden gale. However, what left Talion truly terrified was the sight of the black ships and the understanding that time was up. Five ships of vast size, large enough to hold a crew of a hundred on each, had beached themselves on the shore. Already, small war parties were spreading across the area. The beach was already being swarmed and secured.

Talion now wondered what it was he should do. He needed to assassinate the Tower as soon as possible. However, it was possible Ursa was still in danger. He could not forget the voice he had heard from the Orc that Ursa had immolated. It had said in thevoice of man "I will find you". Was it possible the Tower had seen them through his servant or were such words but a front to instill fear? It was possible the Orcs were aware of Ursa and would seek to destroy her. The shore was not far from the she-Orc's estate. Another danger that needed addressing was in regard to Queen Marwen and Lady Lithariel. Five hundred Orcs, plus the thousands in Núrn, would quickly overrun the wildlands the tribes hid amongst.

"No." he thought, "Marwen will have scouts to warn her. I must return quickly to Ursa to prepare an ambush."

The Wraith asked, "You plan to return so soon? Not to intercept the Black Captain at Kalug's fortress?"

Talion said aloud, "There is no time. The fortress is fully guarded. It would take many hours. I am sure the Tower will quickly seek the nearest Warchief out to double his forces. I must return to Ursa."

"I take no issue with this plan. If the ambush happens amongst forces we control in a base we know well, our chance of success is great. But it must be successful. There will be no second chance. If we fail here, he will go to Fort Morn and it may take many months to reach him there."

"I know. I will not let him harm her and I will not suffer him to live a day more."

In his mind, he saw the hideous form of the Tower, hewn with blades and twisted armor. The dark one gazed down at the struggling form of Talion's wife and son. As the Blackhand slit their throats and spilled their blood, how could Talion forget the face of one of the three killers? How could he forget the expression on the Tower's face? The Hammer merely frowned at the act. As for the Blackhand, he showed little expression, appearing melancholy in his own way, even as he slew his loved ones. But the Tower… The Tower! He smiled.

Talion felt his fingers tremble as they hovered over his blade. His heart began to fall into darkness, matching those of the being that haunted him. They could not rest until their enemies were dead, until their thirst for revenge was quenched, until they had paid them back for all the pain and the blood of innocents that were spilled.

A whisper was lost in the wind as the storm descended upon the land.

The Ranger cursed his foe. He promised, "Sauron, just as you took my son, today I will take yours."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I am worried that I am including details that will later conflict with the sequel, especially in regard to Núrn and its inhabitants. For example, my story about the Queen's past in the last chapter. Hopefully, the lore I'm adding will not conflict with that in Shadow of War. Only time will tell.

Please leave a review. It's much appreciated!


	5. The Summit and the Survivors

**Chapter 5. The Summit and the Survivors**

The wooden gate of the old fortress reeled downwards. An armored stallion and a procession of iron-clad guards stormed in. Atop the steed was the fallen rider. Blood trickled down as his movements caused the stakes in his back to dig deeper in his flesh. His armor continued to tighten around him. One day it would completely suffocate him, snapping his bones and crushing his lungs. His body never stopped growing even in his unnatural length of life and the armor Sauron had forged for him could never be removed. His existence itself was pure torture. In turn, he would share his pain with all who defied him. The brightest, fairest souls were ripe for picking. Their minds were so easily shattered and bent to his will. Their minds were unprepared for the torture that awaited them in his grand fortress. Right now, the land of Núrn, even under the rule of Orcs, had prospered and endured. It was time for this paradise to join him in the darkness. What green was not meant for Mordor, he had no need of. It would be burned. All of it would burn. Those that still defied the Dark Lord would not survive much l longer. They too would soon beg for death.

Waiting inside the fortress was the Warchief Kalug. He sat slouched upon his throne. His frame was a bulky one, obese with ill-fitting armor. He wore a helmet that came down to his chin with a massive horn on each side to give the impression that they were his tusks.

The Warchief was ready to boast and show his power to the servant of the Dark Lord. He was ready to show all that he had achieved in the land of men. Then the Tower, no doubt impressed, would return to Mordor and boast to the Dark Lord of the great Orc. A fitting replacement of Belos. No! Greater than Belos! Once he helped capture Talion, that praise was ensured. He grinned as he looked up at the dark figure approaching him.

As soon as he glimpsed upon the Tower, it all fell apart. His pride. His ambitions. His power. It was drained away. He was a small thing. A swine before the slaughter. He looked up at the hulking form of his master and his body ran cold. He realized he knew nothing of true power nor of evil. He could not compare. He could not understand. He valued himself on his cruelty to break his prisoners and to make small his foes. But his devices were nothing now, no better than a child priding themselves on scaring off a mouse.

The Tower commanded, "Kneel."

The massive Orc dropped instantly to his knees. His head sunk low as he lay prostrate. He dared not gaze up again. He wished never again to see the horror before him. Instead he looked to the feet of the servant of darkness. There was a small sound as of a raindrop. He realized then that it was blood falling at the feet of the Tower. He looked at the flesh bulging out of the shin guards of his master's feet. Was this really a man?

"Your army is now under my control." said the Tower.

"Erm- of course m'lord!"

"Tell me" said the Tower, his voice booming through the throne room as if he were a troll, "How many Warchiefs are here in Núrn?"

"Six guard the north shore, me being one of 'em."

"I have business here on the coast. Gather the camps that lay about your fortress."

"All camps here belong to me." Said Kalug, "That is… except of Ursa. She only have a couple hundred Uruk at best."

"'She?'"

"A she-Orc and a half-Orc at that" said Kalug with disgust. He appeared to be becoming more comfortable around the Tower.

He continued, "She'll be no help to you. Best to go to Fort Morn, our greatest fortress. There are many strong Orc 'ere m'lord."

The Tower ignored him and uttered, "Strange that one of such low stature could come to gain such power."

"From Mordor, she came not long ago."

The Tower said, "I imagine the Gravewalker arrived about that time."

"Begging your forgiveness, I don't remember. Think he came earlier."

"I see. And this Gravewalker, where is he?"

"He is… hard to find. He alludes our patrols. A dark power he has. Lets him move like he wind and if you kill him, he comes back. That's what word from Mordor said. Belos Ironguard killed him in the arena, but that Gravewalker came back from the dead and gutted him."

"Where did you get this information?"

"Uruk coming down the road. I have a report if you like."

"Bring it" said the Tower in a cold voice.

The Warchief sent one of his servants to retrieve the scroll.

The Tower said, "There is a Queen here, of the sea. Tell me, how is it that the army here has not captured her or her men?"

"Begging your pardon m'lord. It is difficult. Most of 'em have been caught and sold. But she saved what's left of them. There are many hills and forests to hide in."

"Excuses, excuses. It is remarkable... how truly you have failed me."

Kalug fell silent. He realized he was a fool to speak so bravely before the Tower. He was unsure if even his status as Warchief meant anything now. He felt no different than a foot soldier or rather, he felt he was again a foot soldier back in Mordor. It had all slipped away, in an instant, in the face of ultimate power.

The Tower said, "You were entrusted with this garden and yet with all your armies, you cannot remove a few weeds. Perhaps you are distracted? You need to clear your minds or I will remove all distraction from them."

"Y-y-yes my lord. I will catch 'em, I promise you."

"Ah good, the report has arrived."

The Tower smiled as a small goblin handed over a scroll, tattered by the long road from Mordor.

He tore it open and scanned it quickly. It was difficult to read through the crude writings of Orc, even if they wrote in the language of Mordor. His bloodshot eyes darted down paragraph after paragraph. At last, his eyes seemed to halt. He read about the arena of Skamma. A great gathering where Belos' foes were to be executed. The foes, oddly enough, were listed and among them was an intriguing name.

"Strange is it not?" said the Tower, "That the ranger would rescue Belos' prisoners? Why risk it when he could simply attempt to slay the grand chief amidst the execution? Perhaps this Ursa has the blessings of the Gravewalker. Her rise to power all due to such dealings with this fallen ranger."

He continued, "Only to abandon her keep and flee Mordor. Why?"

The Tower's amused gaze suddenly turned into rage. Following the death of Belos, the report listed the death of the Hammer. The Warchief fell back in fear as his master clenched his teeth and claws. His back began to bleed as the muscles on his body rippled. Kalug could only tremble with fear, the ground beneath him becoming soaked with urine. Already, he felt himself devoured by the rage of the dark one. The small goblin in the room was huddled in the corner crying for his mother. The candle light was blown out leaving them to their nightmares.

The Tower said aloud, "It cannot be! The Hammer left in such haste, telling not even the Dark Lord on his dealings. Did this little Warchief bring him to his death? Why was the ranger at her camp? Why did she so quickly flee quickly from Udun? Oh, foolish little Orc, did you think your treachery would go unnoticed?"

"Come," said his booming voice to the Warchief, "Send word to gather your battalions. We march for the camp of this traitor."

"To kill her?"

"'To kill'?" echoed the Tower, "How barbaric. I abhor the shedding of blood and the wasting of life. Such a beautiful fate is not fitting on such filth. To rob them of their suffering is beneath me. The Gravewalker will come for his Warchief. She will bring him to me. Two fine trophies for my bidding and own pleasure. To be awake will be their nightmares... and their dreams… oh, they will happily dream of death."

* * *

Ursa stared at the horizon. She knew both time and opportunity were slipping away. Her forces were ready for battle, but there was little else to be done without knowledge on the Tower's whereabouts or Talion's fate. She wondered if it were best to flee. However, such an action would guarantee her guiltiness and it was still possible the Tower was unaware of her treachery. Her heart was pounding madly as the last traces of light faded behind the coming storm. She felt the life she had hoped for Talion and for her child abandoning them.

There was a burst of light as a silver phantom flew in. It moved faster than any horse the young Chieftain had known. The ghost stopped only a few feet from her face. Its luminous shroud vanished as it revealed itself to be the ranger.

"You're safe." said Ursa with a faint smile.

"There is little time. Ursa, you must flee. If not for you, then for the sake of our child."

Ursa's fingers cradled her child as she fell deep into thought. Her gaze fell to the ground for a minute before she let out a deep breath. She then returned her sight to Talion.

She said, "What will you do my lord?"

"His forces will soon arrive, of that I am sure. Alas, to his surprise, a host of Uruk under my control will greet him. I will take his head in the turmoil and claim any officer he brings with me as my own."

"I believe your plan is sound, I do… but… what if he is too much? With dark magic under my control, I could be of use. I could turn his forces to ash and him as well."

"Do you think you can control them?"

"I have used them on several occasions, mostly on targets. I can control them well enough. Talion, I realize you want me safe. Nonetheless, we are stronger together."

Talion said, "You so strongly spoke against a hasty battle, now you wish to be a part of it? And what if you die? Will not our child perish with you?"

"Our child will perish if the Tower is not destroyed. Talion, I fear for you. I fear that to challenge him, even with your Uruk, will end in ruin. Only my powers can protect you. Only together can we win."

Talion tightened his fists. Ursa jumped back in fear as he swung his fist to the side and let out a roar. As his rage settled, he looked back to his wife.

"It should not have been like this. That as it may be, I will accept your aid. Do you have a plan?"

Ursa said, "I will be waiting for him to negotiate. There are few places here for ambushes, but I will place archers on the roofs. Together we will strike him. Your arrows of light allow you to travel wherever you hit. In his moment of distraction, slay him."

"If I fail," said Talion, "Then burn us both."

Ursa's eyes wavered as she pictured it in her mind.

"Ursa… I will return. There is a white tower here in Núrn. I will see you again. What you must worry about is how to escape. If he brings his army, the camp may be surrounded."

Ursa said, "There is way through the marshes. They will not be able to cross the waters so easily. I have many traps and scouts there. If the battle goes poorly, I will flee. As should you."

Talion nodded his head. An empty agreement.

The Wraith now said, "How many forces are under Kalug's command?"

"Five hundred I would say," said the Warchief, "Likely only three hundred could be mustered if he wishes to make his move soon."

Celebrimbor added, "He will not leave his ship unguarded. Three hundred will be left to guard it I presume. A force of five hundred strong may soon surround here. You have only small towers. No walls or keeps for defense. This ambush must be perfect. We must be perfect."

* * *

The temperature of the valley was quickly dropping as if it were suddenly a frozen winter day. Ursa's campsite was swarming with fully-armed Uruk, all of which had been summoned back on Talion's orders. Flog stood at the head of the Uruks, awaiting the arrival of Sauron's servant. Amidst the gathering, there was an absence of slaves just there had been in Ursa's ambush against Olg well over a year ago. Her compassion was her greatest weakness in this plan. She would not risk any of her slaves to be caught amidst the fighting, but to do so would likely heighten suspicions of treachery.

Talion stood atop of one of Ursa's guard towers. Besides him was a spindly goblin archer with an arrow already in his quiver. He paid the ranger no attention, as if he did not exist. Talion looked down from his vantage point. It was from here he would fire an arrow into the Tower and behead him in an instant. The battle needed to be over before the enemy could learn of the extent of the Wraith's powers and before he had a chance to unleash his own sorcery. The ranger blinked and transferred his gaze to the large war tent in the back of the camp.

Out walked the Warchief. To Talion's surprise, she was not dressed her usual ebony robes. She had always preferred them as they kept her warm but were not too heavy. Instead, she wore a set she had always thought too theatrical for her own good. This was not to say they were without use. They did well to counter the heat of Udun and established her instantaneously as a warlord. The robes were, in truth, nostalgic to Talion. It was just like the day of her coronation. She wore black wrappings over her chest, making bare her midriff. A long black loincloth covered her waist and reached far past her knees. It exposed her legs and their shredded flesh that had since partially healed. On her lower arms were overgrown sleeves that flowed like ribbons and blended with her gloves. On her back, she wore a long black train that dragged many feet behind her. On her head, was a silver crown with a stack of small skulls of goblins sown together. It was often worn by Orc officers to make them known in a battlefield. Her pitch-black clothes contrasted heavily with the pale white of her flesh, making her look like a phantom. Her golden eye seemed to glisten as she marched forward. Talion thought she looked fearless in that moment. He also thought she looked beautiful in such scandalous clothes. He was sure she felt embarrassed to again be wearing them having so little pride in her own appearance. If they survived this battle, he had to tell her. Talion's eyes then fell to her stomach where he saw her hand rubbing. His heart skipped a beat. He suddenly regretted bringing her here. This was no place for a mother with child. But it was the place of a Warchief. He understood that well.

Ursa began to control her breathing. She looked to her soldiers to find her strength. She looked up to where Talion was. He had once called himself her commander and she his army. Together they were strong. Right now, she had to fulfill her duties as Warchief and protect her lands, slaves, and comrades. She had to live long enough to free the slave city, long enough to liberate the Uruk, and long enough to secure a future for her child. Such fragile dreams. Somehow, Ursa's heartbeat had become calm.

In that moment, there was a hellish scream. It sounded like that of a horse, but she had never heard one make such a deranged sound: a sound of pain and twisted horror. Ursa held her ground, refusing to budge even as death loomed over her. Her body screamed for her to run just as it always had. However, she had power and a duty that must not be forsaken She had to kill the beast that threatened her. Ursa could hear the march of an army approaching in unison. She had not heard such a sound since the first Warchief's conquest from Mordor in her teenage years. Uruk were not used to being discipline or organization. Something had tamed them.

Talion counted the forces that approached. To his surprise, only a single battalion of Uruk were making their way to the camp. He had expected five hundred. The battalion contained at least fifty Uruk, enough to be a threat to Ursa's camp, but not enough to ever defeat them. He wondered if the Tower was truly so formidable that an army was not needed. The ranger felt a chill as he saw a small group of riders heading the procession. It was the Tower and his blackguard. However, they were towing a pair of horses. They were likely a pair of slaves. Talion felt his stomach begin to rot, but he did not know why. In his heart, he felt that something had gone wrong, as if his strength were leaving him. The Wraith seemed to sense his panic.

He said to Talion in a whisper, "What is it? What troubles you?"

"I do not know. I feel as if I'm back in that day again… with my family about me… ready to be slaughtered."

"You must turn away from such feelings. Steady your blade."

"I slew the Hammer," said the Ranger, "I did not hesitate to do so. Why am I feeling this way now?"

"Our foe is different. You must be cautious."

Flying the banners of Mordor, the Tower arrived on his black steed. The poor beast looked as if it were ready to keel over as blood dribbled down its hooves and its mouth frothed from insanity. Yet it did not fail or falter under the control of its cruel master even as it was being crushed under the weight of its armor and rider. Its master rode into the goblin queen's camp where he saw her waiting for him. His mouth stretched to each side of his cheeks as he smiled.

Ursa felt the life leaving her blood as he drew closer like a hawk bearing down on its prey. Right now, she needed to be as a snake and bare her fangs. This was a place of negotiation and discussion, but it was also a place of threat and treachery. A gust of wind sent her long black robes streaming behind her and her shimmering locks billowing about. The twisted man approached her and she walked forward to meet him at the front lines. Already, her camp was being polluted by his troops. The battle would be close and she would need to be ready to retreat.

"So, this is the she-Orc who gained so much." said the Tower with a crisp, dark voice. It was more playful than Ursa had thought, but it only caused her to fear him morer. She stood proud as he drew close to her. Ursa looked up and met his gaze. A summit between the Warchief and the Tower had now begun.

"What brings such a grand lord to my humble camp?" asked Ursa, her voice unfaltering.

"I hunt the Gravewalker. I had come to rid these lands of his filth, and of all that plagues it. The ranger, the traitors, the tribes… all of them… no more."

"Tell me," he continued, "Have you seen the wraith? Have you seen the corpse of the man of Gondor?"

"He walks these lands day and night." said Ursa, "If you seek a fight with him, I assure you one will find you."

"Humph. You are indeed a great Warchief" said the Tower, "However, I have found that…"

The Tower reached forward and stroked one of his nails against her throat. Ursa quickly stepped backwards. The second he had touched her she felt as if her throat were about to be split open and gush out blood. She felt his desire to rip out her throat. Suck a cruel desire that no Orc could match.

"… power is a fickle thing. Those that make themselves to be strong so easily shatter."

Indeed, Ursa had begun to sweat and her eye showed great panic. Her facade was over. She would not be able to create such a front again. This foe was too great in power and evil. Her only hope now was for Talion to save her. She was ready to give the order, to send her Orc on him the second they were apart.

"See?" asked the dark one, "Isn't it better to be truthful? To accept your weakness? You are alone. All that you have will be taken from you. It was never yours to barter with. You conspired with the Gravewalker, betraying your people and betraying your lord."

He then ran his eyes up and down her. Ursa had not meant to betray herself with her body language. However, seeing the devil before her caused her hands to defensively cover her exposed stomach in some attempt to protect the child from his gaze. She was not aware of her own actions until the Tower became fixed upon her womb.

He said, "Ah… I see. I wondered what it was in your eyes I saw amidst the terror. So, this is the truth between the unholy union. To think a man of Gondor would take a lover from Mordor. Whatever would his dead wife think? You must worry him, appearing before me like this… fresh with child. I wonder if you are ready to lose it? You should have fled this land long ago. Now you have condemned not just you, but this infant as well. I wonder how they will fare in my land? What would a child's mind be like if it knew only pain from the day it was born?"

Ursa's blood boiled. Something flowed through her as dark as the thing that possessed her. She looked up at the enemy with rage in her eye. The Tower's smile vanished as realized that her red eye was not truly so. The sunlight revealed its true form. And so, he found himself gazing at the eye of his master and into the very fires of Mordor that sought to consume him.

"It cannot be," said the Tower, "He would have no use for one as weak as you."

"It is not your place to doubt him," said Ursa, her voice cold and cruel.

Talion, perched up above, heard her dark words. It broke his heart to hear her speak as she had after murdering the Tower' servant, her mind so close to the Dark Lord, so full of despair.

"How came you to be so?" asked the Tower, "Ah… did you, in your greed, reach out to the weapon of the Hammer? Am I to believe he reached back to you? "

"It is time for you to leave," said Ursa, "Depart. Or we will all die here."

The Tower felt his advantage fleeing as this unknown element threatened his plans. He considered her threat and found it reasonable.

"Very well. I have much to consider. Make no mistake that I will deal with you. Your judgment will come swiftly."

"As does yours." said Ursa, "The doom of us all is at hand."

As the Tower began to turn away, Ursa let out a sigh of relief. Her heart began to beat normally again. She felt the fire that had taken her relinquish. However, it was time for blood. Ursa turned away and began walking back to her camp. Once she was far enough away she would give the order that would decide everything.

"Ah…" she heard him say.

Ursa's heart stopped. She felt everything slip away.

"I nearly forgot. A trinket I brought for negotiations."

The Warchief turned around to see two horses besides the dark agent. Upon them, were no doubt the race of men. On their heads were tied dirty wrappings that obscured them from the world. Ursa immediately noticed one appeared to be a woman and another a young man. She wondered why the Tower had brought slaves here.

He said, "I have brought items of barter. Two slaves all the way from Gondor. I thought they may have some value to the Gravewalker."

Talion's eyes were fixed on the prisoners below. He felt his heart racing, ready to give out completely. His hands were trembling with fear.

"We'll be together my love. Soon! Forever!" said a soft voice.

The ranger was back in his home during his greatest nightmare. His wife shut her eyes as the blade was placed against her throat. She had tried to comfort and protect him until the very end. He should have looked away, but his horror forced him to witness the Blackhand's sword slashing open her throat. It was a gentle motion, almost kind in its own sickening way. Her lifeless body fell to the floor not a moment later.

"Father, I want to be a ranger like you! A great man of Gondor who watches the Black Gate and protects her people!"

"Your mother will not be happy to hear that" said Talion with a laugh.

Dirhael cried for his father as he struggled about. A burly Orc held him there as the black-robed villain cut into his jugular. He gargled and gasped as he lay there bleeding, clearly afraid of what was to come. Talion could only blubber and despair as he watched his world die.

"Talion!" said a cold voice. It was the Wraith beckoning to him.

All this time, he had lived in despair, fighting for vengeance. He did deeds of good by liberating slaves and seeking to end the reign of Mordor. But it paled in comparison to the thing that drove him most. Mordor needed to pay for what it had done. Until then, he would not die and he would not rest. He had forgotten for a time as he danced with Ursa.

The Tower said, "I will return to my camp. If the Gravewalker or any of your Orc seek battle, these two will not be spared. The Gravewalker is to come to me alone and unarmed for their release."

"Whom?" wondered Ursa, "Whom could have such value? Unless…"

Time seemed to stop for Talion as he watched the Tower tear off the bags covering the prisoner's heads. All his plans and hatred seemed to fall apart in that moment. He was back in Minas Tirith. There she was. Her dark, brown hair that always was braided was undone. Her face was beaten and tattered, but it was her. He felt himself back in his home beyond the Black Gate. Here was a young man, his light brown hair was ruffled and his face was worn. Two faces he had always known he would never see again. Ioreth and Dirhael. Their mouths were bound, as were their hands. In that moment, he could not understand how it was possible. He could not believe it. It made no sense. He had watched them die. But he had never returned to bury them. His mind was plagued with all manner of doubt.

"It cannot be" said Talion as the Tower brought back his world.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : If you have time, please leave a review! It is greatly appreciated.

As is probably obvious, the Tower's actions in this story are different than that of the games. I wanted him to be a more proactive villain rather than one who sits and waits for the hero's arrival. I hope you will enjoy how I characterize and portray him.


	6. The Rescue and the Shattering of Light

**Chapter Six. The Rescue and the Shattering of Light**

Ursa watched as the Tower left her camp, taking her plan for a quick victory with him. In the end, he had been ready for both she and her husband. She clutched hear heart as her anxiety took hold again. Once it dwindled, she felt a sigh of relief. Her child was safe. Still, she knew that the revelation of Talion's family being alive would change much. She waited for him to come down from his perch so she could console him and calm his mind.

Talion fired an ivory arrow beside Ursa. She felt the wind push against her as he appeared so close to her. She turned to look at him. Talion's face was difficult to read. He looked taken back more than anything. It made sense to be in a state of shock. Ursa put her hands around his and looked up at him lovingly.

She said, "Talion… come to me. Let me help calm your thoughts just as you have always calmed mine."

His eyes began to move about as life entered them. He looked upon Ursa, at his wife, and began to breathe again.

"I know this must be difficult for you."

Talion asked, "What am I to think? They're alive? It cannot be. It must be a trick of the enemy."

The Wraith appeared beside them and said, "It very well may be. However, we will not let him do as he pleases. Talion, if your family is alive, we will save them."

He had never heard the Wraith show such support before. He wondered if Celebrimbor empathized with him, knowing he would do whatever it took if there was a chance to save his own wife and daughter.

The ranger asked again, "How is this possible?"

The Wraith said, "The Black Hand is a necromancer like his master. He used a blood sacrifice to revive us. It is possible he did so for them. Perhaps when he realized we could not be stopped, he planned to use them to barter with. However, if so, it is not truly the same. My spirit was bound to you because of our shared pasts and need for vengeance. Furthermore, their souls should be bound to a host, yet they seem to be in their own bodies. I do not understand."

"Neither do I, but I must go." said Talion, "I must kill him before he enters Fort Morn."

Ursa said, "There is an army surrounding him. I will send Uruk to assist you. I will go as well. If I can use my sorcery to separate him from the others-"

Her husband interrupted saying, "You must remain here Ursa. I will not risk you again. I was wrong to let him get so close to you."

"If we fail, our child will die!" she shouted.

"No! You will go to the Queen. If she flees the land, you will follow. Ursa… please. If I fail, I cannot bear to lose two families in one day. I cannot lose anyone ever again. I cannot…"

"I will remain here then." said Ursa, "If you do not return in an hour, I will flee with my forces into the swamp until I reach the mountains. From there, I will make my way to the home of the tribesmen."

"Very good." said Talion, "Now I must go. He brought only a battalion. I will take twelve of your Uruk with me. We will be more than enough to slaughter them. The Tower was arrogant. He should have brought an army. If he had, I would have no choice but to surrender."

Talion quickly climbed atop of his steed. He looked down at Ursa who gazed at him with worry. He knew she feared she would never see her husband again. He then wondered if it was all that she feared for.

Ursa said, "Talion… go now and save your family."

He felt his heart sink as she said it. He quickly dismounted and walked up to her. Ursa was frozen with sorrow as her lord walked closer to her. She felt his hands slip through her own and he pressed his forehead against her own.

He said, "You are my family."

"Talion… your wife and son are alive. I… cannot ask you to leave them. I only hope you will father this child."

Ursa knew that if her husband survived this battle, she would still lose her love. It broke her heart but she could not help but hope he won. If he could have his family back, she would suffer in silence. As much as she grieved, she was equally happy for him.

"Ursa," began the ranger, "This has all left me confused. Nonetheless, I made a vow to you. My old vow was broken in her passing. I do not know what I will tell her or him. I suppose I must say that it cannot be as it was again. Please do not think I would so easily abandon you nor that I would forget the meaning in the ring I carry."

"My lord… I… I suppose this shall have to wait. You must go," said Ursa, "Do not worry about me now. I would feel terrible if I were to say I were glad you said it, so I will only say that I wish for your victory. So be off and save Ioreth. Save Dirhael. Stop the Tower so no more need suffer under his hand."

Talion leaned forward and kissed Ursa upon her lips. She savored his touch as he pulled away. Her ranger then turned and mounted his horse once more. He whipped on the reigns and the horse flew off in pursuit with a host of Uruk riders behind him.

Ursa's camp fell silent as she waited. In her heart, she was afraid. She feared something dreadful was going to happen.

* * *

The Tower headed his battalion as they crossed the grasslands that led to the fortress of Kalug. It was time for him to take Kalug's army and combine it with that of the other Warchiefs'. It would be more than enough to wipe out the rebels. While the culling commenced, he needed only wait within Fort Morn.

Behind him, Talion's party was quickly approaching. As the Tower's own forces were traveling at a comfortable speed, the ranger knew he had the advantage. He would overtake them long before they reached the hall of the neighboring Warchief. He tugged tightly on the reigns. His horse let out a whinny as it hurdled forward at a dangerous speed. The beast panted as its relentless master drove it to its limit.

Talion's mind, earlier a sea of turmoil, was calm. The questions that plagued his mind had fallen silent. In this moment, he could only think about killing the Tower and saving his family. Perhaps though, it would be better to say that to save his family his mind was focused solely on slaying the Tower as quickly as possible. There was no hesitation anymore. No fear. He would kill the Black Captain or be killed. He would save his family or lose everything.

 _I will not lose. I will slay you. Everyone._

 _Come to me!_

 _Come to me oh servant of Sauron! You cannot run from me. You cannot escape this fate. Just as my family fell, just as your brother, now you too shall perish._

His thoughts echoed through his mind. For a moment, Talion wondered if they were his own. Indeed, he felt as if the Wraith's own emotions were near to him. They seemed to mirror his own. A desire for revenge, a cold drive that sent them both in pursuit of the most dangerous prey.

They now found themselves before the enemy as they broke out of the tree line. Talion's horse rode to the front of the battalion where the Black Captain could freely see him. The ranger pulled back on the string of his phantom bow and aimed at his target. The Tower showed no fear or surprise. Without hesitation, he ran his horse straight to Talion as if he wished to crush him. The Gravewalker fired one of his arrows and it shot true. The arrow hit its mark, but it was not the Tower. The arrow hit the brain of his warhorse. The beast let out a shriek as it was freed from its torment. Its head came crashing into the dirt and it tumbled about violently. Its rider was tossed to the ground. Immediately, Talion was upon him. His sword slashed at his fallen foe. To his shock, the Tower was not there. He vanished in a cloud of smoke and fire. Not a moment later, he reappeared only six feet away.

The foe uttered, "You could not wait but a moment. Like a moth to the flame, you have come before me."

Talion looked to the horses beside the Tower that now circled them. The slaves were still bound to them. As he spun around, he could see the enemy party beginning to charge. However, a large group were dismounting, one of which was the Warchief Kalug. They gathered ahead of him to protect the Tower while weaker Orcs prepared to assassinate him from behind. A housebound Orc charged him head on, swinging a long sword at Talion's throat. Talion ducked swiftly and extended out his blade to his foes throat. The Orc yelped as it flew off its horse. Its black blood came spilling out as its life ended. Already, a group of Orcs were upon him. Talion would have none of it. The Tower cackled as he walked backwards to where his prisoners were.

"Careful ranger," said the Black Captain, "you are losing them."

He pulled the prisoners off the beasts and grabbed them by the throat. Talion's attention was split between the threat laid upon his family and the gathering of dozens of Orcs behind him. He recalled then that he was not alone. His drew up his hand and clenched his fist. With the order being sent, a flurry of arrows launched at his foes. He then spun to the side and dodged a swing from a goblin's cleaver. He would not waste movements. His blade was as fast as lightning with the elegance of a river. The Orcs dropped in the very moment he reached them. Talion quickly cut a path through their numbers as he drew close to the Tower. Ahead was the great Warchief Kalug with a whip fit for a troll in hand. He swung the lash at Talion without hesitation. His swing had such ferocity that it would shred Talion's flesh from his bone. The ranger reeled to the side, dodging one strike. Kalug however was a master of his craft. His whip was already being pulled back for a second blow. Talion's eyes went to his enemy's weapon, a risky maneuver. The whip shot forward, meaning to rip apart his throat. The ranger let it slash across his wrist, catching it on his leather vambraces. The massive cattle whip coiled around his arm and Talion grabbed hold of it with a fist. The Warchief gasped as the ranger bolted forward. He dropped the whip and grabbed hold of his club. Talion, only inches from him, bent his spine backwards like a reed as he barely avoided the club. The ranger then reached forward and tore at his enemy's mind. The Wraith took his place and cursed his foe as he took his mind for his own. The Warchief arose now a slave to his will.

The Tower grinned as he watched the display.

"Oh ringmaker, your powers are most impressive. You have learned much from my master have you not?"

"Silence!" said the Wraith as he strode forward.

"To take the mind of an enemy, to make his power your own, a fine skill. I wonder if it is suited for an Elven lord when its maker was the lieutenant of Morgoth."

"I said be silent!"

"I see there is much you wish to keep for yourself. Tell me ranger, did he tell you? He need only give the word and you will die. You are but a puppet for him."

Talion said, "I will suffer you not to say another word. Our bond is no concern of yours. What is of concern to you is how swiftly your life shall come to an end. Free my family now or die!"

The Tower said, "Ah… are you in a position to make demands? Take a step closer and they will perish."

He pulled out, from his weapon belt, two jagged, silver axes. The forward edges of them he stuck to the necks of his prisoners, only an inch from piercing their flesh. Talion hissed as he pulled out his bow once more.

His enemy said, "Drop you weapon. Are you really willing to watch them die again?"

Talion's eyes hesitated. He looked at the trembling bodies of his wife and son. With that, his lowered his bow and let it vanish. He unlatched his sword as well.

He asked, "Tell me… how is it possible? How can they live?"

The Tower said, "Ah yes, the Black Hand was pleased to find Celebrimbor knew the incantations for the ritual. Such a wise Elf, if not equally overconfident. Perhaps he convinced you he knew all the necromancer's secrets? In this you are mistaken. When you stole the wraith, we needed tokens to barter with. The Black Hand slew many at the Black Gate to restore them; so many died so we could have this reunion."

Talion then said, "Then… they really are alive? Ioreth… Dirhael… all this time they were your prisoners."

The Tower said, "Fear not. You need not be separated from them again. You will follow me to across the Sea of Núrnen to wear my lair lies. In service of the Dark Lord, you shall do great and terrible things. Drop now your weapons and submit to me."

Talion's eyes wavered yet again as he saw his family shaking and crying amidst their bonds.

"Talion… wait…" said Celebrimbor.

"He is right Celebrimbor. I am not strong enough to watch them die again. So then… I shall not!"

In that moment, Talion pulled out his ghostly bow and was taken by the Wraith. There was no hesitation as they fired. The arrow flew between Ioreth and Dirhael to its target. The Tower reeled backwards as the ranger appeared in front of him. Talion pulled out his broken sword, shattered the day the Hammer appeared in his village. A weapon he had saved as a memory of that fateful day, a weapon meant to kill the three conspirators. He let out a blood curdling war cry as he lunged upon his foe. The Tower blocked Talion's swing with one of his own blades, creating a cloud of sparks. With the blade in his other hand, he stabbed at Talion's stomach. The ranger could see the strike coming and so he sent a swift kick into the Tower's stomach. The massive enemy barely buckled but it was enough to stop his death blow. Talion then charged forward again. He heard an arrow whiz by from behind. He recalled then that a battalion of Orcs was upon him. His own riders appeared in that moment. The riders had put down their bows and brought out pikes. In a great blow, the cavalry charge battered hard into the enemy Orcs. It had taken them long enough.

Talion watched as the hulking form of the Tower swung his right blade at him. Talion veered to the side so that he was facing his enemy's back. He grabbed hold of the Tower's right hand and held him there. In that same moment, he delivered a forceful kick downwards and snapped the enemy's leg joint. The Tower collapsed down onto his knees. The ranger saw the opening and prepared to strike him from behind. In that moment, the Tower regained his footing just long enough to grab Talion by the head. A glow of red came out of his wrist as he held the swordsmen there. Talion felt his body suddenly begin going limp as a powerful force took hold of him. It began to dull his senses, poison him, overpower him, and sow into him like he was a puppet being stitched. He somehow understood that this was what his victims had experienced all this time. It was a nightmarish sensation only eclipsed by his need to survive.

"He is going for our mind. He will make us his slave!" said the Elf desperately.

"Fight with me!" said Talion to the Wraith.

Talion's eyes glowed white as he struggled to take back control. The Tower was shocked, letting out a gasp of surprise as his enemy tore aside his wrist. He had lost the battle of wills as the Wraith's power proved superior to his own. Talion then fell hard upon him. He slashed at his enemy's wrists so that he dropped his axes. He then sent his knee into his enemy's gut and knocked him onto his back. With another roar, the ranger lunged at his prey. With all his hatred, he stabbed down into the downed foe. The defenseless Black Captain could only cover his face with his arms as Talion pierced through them. He rammed his broken blade again and again into the Tower's chest until he was carved open like a mutilated corpse devoured by a wolf. He listened intently as his enemy gurgled and cursed in vain. A second later, the Tower's body fell limp.

Immediately, the ranger returned to his feet. He heard the shrieks of Orcs behind him. After dominating Kalug, he had sent him upon his fellow Orcs. Right now, Kalug's forces were scattering in fear and confusion. However, Talion's attention was fully upon the sight in front of him. He dashed forward and fell onto his knees at the foot of his wife. He tore off her mask revealing a face that once haunted his dreams. He cut away her bonds. She began to gasp and swallow as the rag tied around her mouth was removed.

"Talion… you came for us."

"Ioreth…"

His hand caressed her cheek. She let her head lie in his palm for a moment, giving into bliss.

Talion then withdrew his hand and returned to his feet. He quickly moved over to his son. He was careful with his blade as he cut the boy's bonds. His hands were trembling with fear and desperation. He felt afraid that this dream would end with a single mistake. He then realized he needed his family to get away from this battlefield. However, when he turned, Talion saw that he had won. Kalug and Talion's Orcs were watching the area. Without their Warchief and Black Captain, the enemy ranks had fallen apart.

He then turned to look more closely at the young man in front of him. It was indeed his son. Time had worn him down no doubt from the horrors inflicted on him by the Tower. How could Talion apologize? He had abandoned them. It had been unknowingly yes, but still he had failed to protect them all this time.

"Father… I thought you were dead. The Tower said you had been slain. I did not dream…"

He saw Dirhael begin to tremble. Tears fell from his eyes as he began to choke. His wife was doing the same. Talion himself was broken, unable to fight in that moment. A hole in his heart had been healed. After the wedding, he had been sure it had been healed and replaced by a new light. Yet he could not help but feel fulfilled, as if he were alive again. It then struck him. He realized just how much he had missed them. He understood just how far he had fallen into depravity. How viciously he had hunted his foes, seeking only vengeance. Once he had been a just man of Gondor. Even when the nobility named him scoundrel, he had stayed true to honor and loyalty. Now what was he? A dead man following shadows.

"Come. We must be off back to the fortress. Ursa will be waiting."

 _Ursa…._

"Who is this Ursa?" asked Ioreth softly, "One of the leaders of the tribe? The Tower spoke of him with contempt."

"No. A Warchief of the Orc."

 _How would he tell her? How would he tell him?_

"An Orc?" asked Dirhael, "That seems a dangerous ally."

"She is not like other Orcs. Ursa is… Ursa… she is…"

He felt his heart sink as he resented himself with all of his being. He had only waited a year to remarry and fall in love, only a year to move on in his own way, to find love and purpose. He had even forgotten the hole in his heart. He had let another fill it in a way. It was not adultery but felt as it were now.

"Ursa is my wife"

Ioreth was frozen, appearing unable to gather his words or her own. Talion said nothing as he waited for her response. He knew he should better explain himself. She would feel betrayed. She would feel sick. His son would hate him.

"I don't understand," said Ioreth.

"Let me explain. There is much to speak about."

"I do not think that there is" she said as she took a step back.

"Ioreth I…"

She continued to walk backwards. Her head moved to the side as she fell into disbelief.

Ioreth stated, "An Orc?"

Talion answered, "She is a half-Orc…. She is not what you think"

"My stomach turns at your words" she said, "She is an Orc, a beast of evil. She and her kind slew our people. They killed your friends. Their children. How could you do something so wretched? How could you forget me so quickly?"

Talion said, "Everything is not as we supposed. Let me take you to her so you can understand that she is not evil. Let me take you to where it is safe."

"Did you fornicate with her? Don't tell me… she is with your child?"

Dirhael began to keel over, looking pale and ill.

Talion said nothing as Ioreth's eyes widened with shock.

"She is, isn't she? Talion… what have you done? The man I knew would never…"

"Ioreth, please… I care for you. I ask only that you wait and listen. This is not like you. Trust me as you once did."

He reached forward now and grabbed her shoulder. Ioreth screamed and tore away from him.

"Don't touch me!"

"Ioreth, I beg of you to forgive me. Spare me but a moment. Don't cower. I am no enemy!"

He grabbed hold of her now by the arm. She screamed yet again in fear and began to run. Talion grabbed her by the waist as she wrestled to break free.

"Stop! Stop this!" he said.

"Don't touch me! Dirhael, help me!"

Talion felt his hair raise as a clawed hand grabbed hold of his shoulder. He released Ioreth as he spun around. He realized he had not been careful enough. He should have checked the corpses more carefully. One of the bodies that lay by his feet was not as dead as it seemed. The Orc hissed as it lunged upon him. Talion quickly tore out his dagger and slit the beast's stomach open. The Orc let out a shrill cry and fell over on its side.

"Aaaaagh! Noooooo!" he heard Ioreth cry.

Talion looked to her with confusion.

"What have you done? Nooo…." she said with tears streaming from her eyes.

The ranger's mind went blank as he turned around. At his feet, where the goblin's corpse should have been, was his son. He lay there dead, his eyes wide with fear as his blood poured out into a pool. Talion looked at his own dagger. It was painted crimson with Dirhael's blood. His blade fell as Talion's mine turned to madness.

"Dirhael…" said Ioreth weakly, "What have you done Talion?"

Talion collapsed onto his knees. He looked for the wound on his son. He placed a hand against the cut on his stomach, but he continued to bleed profusely.

"F-father…"

His son gasped and groaned as his body began to freeze up, fighting to struggle to life but failing.

"Dirhael, stay with me! Stay with me."

"Wraith!" he shouted, "Where are you?"

He tore a strip from his cloak and began to wrap it around the wound. His hands were covered in the blood of his child.

"Celebrimbor, I need you. Help me! Someone help."

His son's eyes became lifeless. He would not stir again. Talion began to tremble in fear.

He said, "I did not mean to. It was the Tower. It was his trickery."

His eyes spun to the Tower. His body remained their lifeless just as it had when Talion slew him. The ranger's face turned to utter panic and horror. He looked at the blood covering his hands. His head twisted to where Ioreth stood.

She said, "It was not his doing. In your madness, you stole my son from me."

"Ioreth, please…"

She shook her head. Her hand covered her mouth as she wailed. Talion watched helplessly as her brown hair flowed in the wind, marking her flight. She dashed off into the hills towards the sea.

"I did not want this," cried Talion as he began to blubber.

"I did not want this! Somebody save us…"

With that, his heart fell into utter despair and darkness took him. His sapphire eyes trembled as they were flooded with tears once more. Life had shattered once again. No more would he fight. He surrendered himself to the oblivion.

* * *

Into the nightmare he plunged. Unaware of the truth.

* * *

The Tower stood atop him with his hand reaching into his mind. At last, Talion had surrendered his light. His arrogance against the illusions of the Tower had been his undoing. Now, in a dream he accepted as truth, Talion had accepted the lie and surrendered himself to the hands of darkness. So too had Celebrimbor fallen in his own nightmare.

"So easily shattered are the minds of men" said the Tower.

"Rise now my servant."

Talion was emotionless as he regained his footing, his cheeks still wet from mourning. Around him, were the carcasses of the Uruk he had slain. The prisoners that remained prostrate at the feet of the Tower stirred. They were indeed a woman and a young man, but their faces were not as Ursa and Talion had seen them. In charged the Warchief with his club ready to crush the Tower, still a servant to the Wraith. Following him were his last remaining Uruk. Talion rose a fist and they became still. The ranger grabbed hold of his gear now, ready for the coming battle. He walked up to the side of the Tower and awaited his orders.

"It is time…" said the Tower, "I will suffer you not to be parted from your lover. Go now and be return to her side."

"It will be done" said Talion.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : As always, reviews are appreciated. I live for your reviews, whether positive or negative.

When writing the first story, I made a mistake and assumed Talion knew the Wraith chose to enter him. Honestly, it seemed obvious given the Black Hand, moments before, told the Wraith to enter him rather than Talion. In retrospect, I ended up characterizing Talion as being more vengeful than in the game with less interest in being freed by his curse. On the other hand, my take on Celebrimbor seems less sinister than his portrayal in The Bright Lord, albeit my version still implies much of it.


	7. The Flight and the Fate of Marwen

**Chapter Seven: The Flight and the Fate of Marwen**

"Give up Orc."

Ursa was sprawled on her back, scrambling backwards to escape her attacker. A tall powerful ranger of Gondor was upon her. She had always been terrified at the thought of them. Most Orc were. They were like masters of shadows, never seen until they wished it. They would pick you off before you knew they were there. Since they were young, these soldiers were trained to kill Orc effortlessly. They showed no mercy. They showed no hesitation. And now one was upon her, ready to end her life.

Ursa said, "Please, I beg you, have mercy."

His cold voice said, "I have no compassion for a wolf's death throws, or the squeals of a pig before the slaughter."

"I beg you!" she cried.

Her arms were shaking and her legs seemed to have gone limp.

"G-give me a c-chance. T-there must be something I can do."

He said, "The allies I require are not savage Uruks. Unless you can bring me the head of the Black Hand, you are useless to me."

"Ally? Yes, I can be of use to you." said Ursa, "I know things about the others. You are killing us to draw them out? That's why you are attacking the Captains, to weaken the Warchiefs. And if you kill the Chiefs, the Black Hand will finally leave his throne…. I understand. However, you will never succeed. You need an ally to aid you."

"Venomous words from a snake that would bite me first chance."

Ursa said, "What do you want me to do? What can I say to convince you?"

Talion said, "There is nothing. You can only die."

His sword was aimed at her head. She watched, frozen in absolute terror, as he raised his blade and prepared to behead her.

* * *

A painful memory.

A memory that haunted her like all the others. She never could forget such threats. Even so, Ursa fancied Talion and in time, came to love him. Fear and anxiety was replaced with feelings of trust and peace. So then why? Why did this memory still haunt her? It bothered her that she had such a dark recollection about the father of her child.

 _Talion would never hurt me_

Whenever he was close, Ursa knew she could relax. She need not play the fearless Warchief. In his arms, she truly felt that nothing could threaten her. There was no place she rather be.

Why then? Why did such a nightmare haunt her? She was no longer his prey. Even if he had intended to kill her so coldly that night, he had not gone through with it. Talion had changed. His cruel gaze would never be on her again. It couldn't.

 _Talion would never hurt me_

* * *

Ursa waited in the back of her camp. Her Orcs were all positioned in the front of her base, standing behind a stockade. With a soft smile, she watched as her ranger returned to her. He walked toward her briskly. It was the same confident stride with which he always carried himself, with which she loved. The half-Orc was relieved to know her husband was back by her side so soon. Had it been a few minutes longer, she would have fled deep into the wildlands. Yet here he was, victorious over the Tower. She was glad that her fears did not come to fruition, that the Tower was not as nightmarish as she had predicted.

Ursa began to walk forward, with her hand on her stomach as she thought about the child within her. Another Black Captain was dead and her child was all the safer for it. She could not wait to retire for the night with Talion by her side. They would leave the humid camp and return to their house. In that moment, Ursa froze in her tracks. The Ranger's face was calm and he did not blink. She saw Talion's hands move to his blade. He pulled it out from its scabbard and drew closer. In that moment, Ursa realized what had happened. She had known that the Tower's power of control rivaled Talion's. He had lost. He had fallen. Right now, her own life was about to come to an end.

"Talion!" she screamed, "Stop!"

 _Talion would never hurt me_

Ursa flailed her hand to the side and said, "You must fight it!"

Talion said nothing as he prepared to strike her down. It was not a strange look for him. He did not look like some mind-broken slave. Rather, Talion looked like he was preparing a deathblow for a goblin with the same focus he always administered in battle. He would slay her like any other.

She shouted out with fury, "Don't tell me you intend to kill our child!"

As he heard it, Talion froze in his steps. He transformed into the form of the wraith and pulled out this bow. Celebrimbor, just like Talion, seemed ready to shoot down the Orc. The Warchief stretched out her hand for a second. If she destroyed Talion with her magic, her child would be safe and Talion might be reborn without the curse. However, she did not have the heart to hurt her husband. Ursa yelped in pain as one of the Wraith's arrows struck her. She looked to her right shoulder where the arrow was lodged in. It vanished a second later. She was in a panic as she awaited Talion's teleportation there to behead her. However, Talion instead prepared another shot. She was confused as to his choice but had no options now but to fight. Ursa grit her teeth as she stretched out her right hand once more. A wall of fire climbed upwards and burned as if the green grass were dry from a scorching summer. Talion's Orcs now began to stir and move towards her. She thought herself foolish for handing over all power to him. Right now, Talion controlled every Orc in her army and Ursa was alone.

The inferno rose and spread like a ring through the camp as Ursa made her retreat. Talion's orcs stood at the fire unable to continue. The ranger himself made no attempt to pursue, at least for the moment.

Within seconds, Ursa was on her horse, sending it dashing madly into the thicket of trees. She saw Uruk up ahead. One prepared a pike to skewer her. She pulled back her hand. A small ball of fire was created in her palm. She swiftly hurdled the fireball forward and it blasted the Orc into the trunk of a tree. The Uruk yelped and fell over unconscious. Talion was in pursuit now. Ursa turned in fear to see the ghostly form of the Wraith dashing towards her, fast as any horse. She took a sharp turn between two trees and sent a spark of fire into a rope above. Before Talion could reach her, a net of logs snapped. This unfurled its load, sending the logs raining down on her pursuers. Talion was aware of it and made his way to the side of the trees, intending to cut her off. Ursa's eyes were full of fear as she saw him about to intercept her. Right now, she was being hunted by a hunter without equal, a hunter with years of training and skills in his arsenal. She ignored the searing pain in her arm as she tugged on the reigns in her attempt to lose him. However, the ranger was gaining ground and fast. In a last desperate maneuver, Ursa summoned another wave of fire. This time, Talion's ghostly arrow fired through it and landed in front of her. Ursa's horse buckled in fear as the ranger appeared beside it, his sword ready to slash its rider in the side. The terrified beast reared up on two legs. In that moment, the horse bucked its forelegs forward and its hooves crashed into the ranger's head. He was knocked in the chin back into the shell of an old oak tree. The Gravewalker collapsed, laying sprawled out at the foot of the oak. Ursa was in awe for a moment. She had never imagined Talion to fall in battle. He had defeated great foes like Belos Ironguard. It was ridiculous for him to be defeated by something so simple, but perhaps that was why it had worked. Whatever it may be, Ursa's luck had lasted a little longer. Her horse dashed deeper into the swamps where she soon lost her pursuers.

* * *

As nightfall approached, Ursa found herself sinking into the swamp. The path was gone now and her horse was well-submerged. She felt gnats and mosquitoes biting at her, leaving red blotches all over her skin. However, she could not spare a hand to swat at them. With a hand upon the reign and another clutching her bleeding shoulder, it was not possible. Her wound was now wrapped with a strip of fabric from her cloak that stopped the bleeding, but it would not stop infection. Her eyes were stained with tears from mourning her loss. She could not fault Talion for his fate. It would be cruel to do so. Nonetheless, there was a wound torn open by seeing Talion make another attempt on her life. The only thing more painful was knowing he was being forced against his will to do so, that she may have lost him forever.

 _No. I will not have it._

She promised herself she would survive this. She still had allies on her side and a power that gave her an advantage even against the Black Captains. To die here was to die in vain. For the sake of her people, her husband, and the baby within her, Ursa had an obligation to see this through. For now, she needed to get her supplies. So far, she had not fought any other Uruk. As Ursa knew where each was posted, it was easy to avoid their sight and continue forward. However, her small point of interest would prove more challenging.

Her muddied horse climbed back onto a platform of soft soil. It let out a grunt of frustration from the day's trials. Ursa let go of the reigns for a moment to rub the head of her horse. It was a small form of thanks, but all she could manage. Up ahead, she saw her tent. It appeared inviting but a trap in its own way. Her Uruk would find it. They would know. All the information they gathered for her was might bring her ruin

Up ahead, she saw the four Uruk she had placed on patrol. They were her bodyguards, good comrades of hers who she had known for many months. One even had been with her since Mordor. Reluctantly, she prepared a blast of fire for them. The Uruk, upon seeing her, drew out their weapons and charged her. Without hesitation, they were ready to cut down the Orc woman. She blasted the first one in the chest, sending him flying backwards. The other two were close enough for her to send them flying back a dozen feet. Their armor would save them. However, the last one was readying his bow and arrow. Ursa had no choice if she were to live. Simply by stretching out her hand, the Orc caught fire.

 _Such a horrendous power._

There was no chance for them. Perhaps a great wizard could dispel it before being burnt alive, but for a normal foe, there was no escape. As if drenched in oil, their flesh caught fire and they were incinerated in an instant. The Orc let out a scream of pain as it died and quickly its body turned to ash.

"Goodbye my friend" said Ursa as she shut her eyes, trying to hide her regret.

Perhaps it was better he died so swiftly. As many Uruk were content be without armor or shirt, her fire would cause them great pain before they died. In this way, a swift death was merciful. That was her justification for her decision to destroy the Orc before he could take the shot.

"This power was meant for the Tower," she said, "When I find him, I promise you he will suffer as you have suffered. He will pay dearly."

Ursa strode forward now into her tent. She felt her skin burn from the humidity. Even here, the insects attacked her. She ignored it and looked down at the large war chest. She pulled it open and began to scoop out the contents. In it, was a more fitting dress, with better protection from the chill of night and the bugs that bit her. She grabbed a large pouch full with water, wrappings filled with food, a blanket, a freshly drawn map, and several tools for travel. Beside the tent, were stacks of rations meant of her troops, as well as bundles of arrows and swords. Ursa would take only what she needed. Once her horse was packed with her gear, she was ready to be off.

Ursa knew the trees gave her the best cover, but she could not rest there much longer. The swamp would soon be scouted out completely and the grasslands had few forests. She needed to escape for the night deeper into the mountains. At the dawn, she could head for the land of the tribesmen. They were her last allies in this land.

* * *

No one had an expected an even greater storm to follow the black clouds that hit Núrn. As Núrn fell into the darkness of night, the storm hit with all fury. The great ships rocked about and many smaller vessels were battered. The swamp was torn to shreds as the storm upturned the soil, water, and trees. Ursa now desperately searched for shelter. She had planned to travel through the night to avoid the patrols, but that was no longer feasible. Her horse groaned as he took her deeper into the outskirts of Núrn. Ursa could barely see. She wiped at her eyes to see through the rainfall. Any hollow or cave would do. Her body was aching all over from her long journey. Her body was as weak as ever; worse, the pain in her shoulder was spreading across her entire body.

At last, she spotted a dark pit in which she could hide. It was an old Caragorn cave. She feared that the beasts might lurk inside or be upon her at any moment. However, as she heard an old tree come crashing behind her, she did not hesitate to make for her newly-found cover. She would simply burn any that threatened her.

There was a crack of thunder as Ursa huddled herself in the cave. Her body shivered as the temperature dropped. Her clothes were well and soaked from the last hour she had spent seeking cover. Ursa turned away from the whistling wind that cut at her face. The half-Orc reached down for her bag to retrieve some necessities. Right now, her body was at its limit. She was exhausted, frozen, and in great pain. She felt terribly ill, no doubt in thanks to her sickly nature. She desperately wanted to create a fire. She could dry her clothes and get a bit of life back in her veins. However, she feared that it would bring Orcs in search of her. Right now, Caragorn were enough of a threat. She would have to endure it. Ursa now loosened the cap to her water pouch and guzzled it down. She realized right then that her bladder and bowels were also full. In the same vein, her stomach was utterly empty. She would have to deal with all of this before she could think of sleep.

Could she think of sleep? If she shut her eyes, she was as good as dead if anything found her. But if she didn't rest, she might become even sicker than she felt now. Ursa decided to risk it. She shut her eyes, remaining curled up as much as she could with a child in her belly. She forced her mind to be silent lest she recall the fate of her husband or strategize without end.

"Ursa…" she heard a man whisper. His voice filled her with happiness.

"Ursa!" said the voice gain.

She pulled herself up from sleep, ready to burn alive whoever threatened her. Her hellish eye was fixed on her target. However, her gaze softened into love and relief as she realized who it was.

"Talion… how?" she asked.

"Ursa, I'm so sorry. It's going to be alright. You're safe now."

He ran to her and placed his hands around her back. She should have been more cautious, but her mind seemed twisted right then. She could think only of her joy as she felt again whole.

* * *

CRACK!

Ursa woke from her bliss. She was in the cave but this time she was alone. Her heart ached as she realized it was but a dream. Reality was far crueler. It had been kind for a time, but in the end, it always revealed its true self. Right now, as she tried to move, she found her body wracked with pain, aching terribly from the slightest movement. She was too sensitive to move. Still, she managed to turn her head to look at the front of the cave. She needed to see how badly the storm was. Given she heard thunder, it could not have improved much.

Ursa's heart began to beat as adrenaline filled her. There at the foot of the hollow was a large Caragorn. It began to growl as it noticed the stranger. Given Ursa had found no bones or droppings inside the hole, the Caragorn did not live there. It must have caught her scent. It spread apart its jaw, revealing its drool-encrusted fangs. Ursa heard her horse panicking in the back of the cave. With a hiss, the monster began to move forward. A single swoop of its paws was all it needed to rend her to pieces. Ursa felt her body tighten up now as she prepared to fight. She would only have a single chance to attack. A flash of lighting happened right then. The small Orc sprang forward and stretched out her hand as if she meant to crush it. The Caragorn rushed at her, ready to crush her throat in its massive jaws. The beast yelped as it caught fire in a single instance. It began to roll around and scream in pain. Ursa increased the flames, needing it die without gathering such attention. Its death throes pained her. It let out high pitch shrieks like a wounded dog as it tried to survive. The beast let out a last yelp as it collapsed at the front of the cave. Its charred corpse began to smoke, but the rain quickly put it out.

The woman knew its blood and flesh would soon attract the cannibals of its own kind. She could not stay here safely, but she did not know what awaited her outside. Could she risk the storm? It was too much. She felt herself overcome with frustration now. It was always something, always something setting her back, always something overpowering her. Even with the power given to her by Sauron, she had to hide. Nothing had changed. She had to hide again just like that scared little orc avoiding the beatings her mother had planned for her.

Ursa hissed and set the creature ablaze again. She would destroy all temptation from its corpse, leaving no blood or flesh for the wolves to latch onto. The creature was set ablaze by her command. She did it quickly, not wanting to risk light any longer. Her hand fell to her side and the flames subsided. All that was left now was a skeleton and a pile of ash. The rain quickly smoked the body, washing away the scent and smoke.

Ursa sighed and curled up yet again. She knew the night would be long. She could move nowhere until the storm passed. The only upside was that her enemies faced the same conditions. The Orcs could not pursue far from their camps until the thunderclouds passed.

* * *

Ursa's eyes awoke. She felt well rested. However, moving proved more difficult than ever. She felt her entire body become wracked with pain now, as if her muscles and skeleton had snapped. She put a hand to her bandages and realized her wound was swelling up. It was likely infected. She needed to get to Marwen's doctors and soon. Looking to the cave's exit, she could see a grey light. Ursa guessed that it was midday. The sun was hidden behind the massive storm that had breached her land. However, there was no longer any lightning and frightening gales. Now, there was simply a thick rainfall that would drench one to the bone within minutes. She would have to endure it.

Ursa untied her horse, whose rope was tied to a tree outside the cave, with enough leeway to allow it to hide inside with her. The beast was more than happy to wait out the storm and now resumed the journey with its master. She needed to find freshwater now to water her steed. Ursa climbed atop his back, groaning from the pain of stretching her shoulder. A moment later, she was off back into the wildlands.

* * *

After two hours of riding, she was nearing her destination. In a straight path, she could have reached it from her base within two hours. However, her long winded escape had more than doubled this. Now she was struggling to get back on course. She had never traveled on these roads and right now she was without the sun. The Orc woman was forced to make the best of her map and crudely navigate. If she could get a glimpse of the sea, she would be able to gather her bearings. Indeed, the fog from the coast and the chirping of gulls would be enough for her to know.

For now, she cut diagonally through the great hills towards the coast. She was forced to dodge over a dozen small Uruk parties along the way. There was so many now. The Tower's plans had likely been slowed down by the storm, but with it subsiding, he was sure to scatter his Uruk about the land. The other Warchiefs would be his soon and Talion would be lost in the walls of Morn. That was…. if he wasn't sent to hunt her down personally.

Ursa could not bear to think about fighting him again. She was not sure what she would do if they met again. Perhaps she would kill him on the spot to save herself and free him from his curse. Or perhaps, as before, she would not have the heart to strike down her beloved ranger. Without an answer, she made for the keep of Marwen. Ursa recognized the great formation of trees up ahead that marked the start of her territories, perfect for concealing the small villages of her people. At last, she felt a bit heartened. Here was a chance to speak with allies and turn the tide of battle. Ursa pulled hard on the reigns and her horse struggled to stop. She had barely had a moment to hear it. Right now, she could hear Orcs up ahead. She listened to the sound of their weapons jangling and their roars and curses as they moved about. Ursa dismounted and went onto all fours. She crawled to the front of the hill and looked over. She could see hundreds of Uruk moving towards the foothold of Marwen's domain. Likely, these were the forces of Kalug. Ursa wondered if they were an organized army, but then realized they were split into parties of six. Likely, this was a massive dispersal of scouts meant to find the tribes that lurked to the east. The Warchief also saw scouts moving towards her direction. She would soon be forced back towards her own domain or farther back from Núrn until she reached the great road from Udun. Marwen herself was pinned down as her land was to the left of the river that flowed from Mount Doom where Orcs shipped cargo. Encompassed by mountains and with war parties on the way, there was little room for escape.

Ursa decided to risk it and ride farther back into the mountains, looking for a way to reach Marwen. If she could at least find a single tribesman, it would be worth it. However, Ursa rode for at least an hour through the windy hills and forests. When she came at last to the outer rim of the old palace, she found a dozen horseback goblins had beaten her there. She was unsure if they had found the Queen, but it was too risky to proceed further. She grit her teeth and turned back farther into the forest. She needed to find some encampment that was not taken.

* * *

Nightfall was again upon the Warchief. Her horse slowly strode down the jet of hills as she fell back into the deep roots of Núrn. She had spent hours scouting the hills but could find only the Tower's orcs. She could only guess what had befallen her ally. There was little else she could do. Should she return to Mordor to control the Fortress of Goth and stand beside Isulek? How would she explain her child to the Uruk? Would she be safe there? Such a journey back alone would take months. In the end, she decided she must remain in Núrn, as dangerous as it may be. She would not abandon Talion. In the morning, she would set out again to find the tribesmen.

For now, Ursa would rest. She camped on a small flat. She lay down a blanket to keep her away from the frozen soil. Ursa ate what was left of her rations and drank the remainder of her drink. In the morning, she would have to replenish her water and forage for food.

* * *

The following morning brought a brighter sky. The heavens were veiled with a thin overcast as the sun was filtered through it. The rainclouds had past, leaving damp soil and succulent grass for Ursa's horse to trample upon. Ursa took her horse over to a small creek to drink. She dismantled now to refill her pouch. Her entire shoulder was now numb and she had difficulty moving it. She carried it in a sling fashioned from the black fabric that once lined the bottom of her dress. The Warchief knew she was running out of time. If left untreated, she would soon catch fever. For her, that could lead to amputation or even her death. Around her may have been medicinal herbs but she had no knowledge of Núrn's botany. It had been one of hundreds of subjects she sought to pursue.

With her bottle full, Ursa prepared to return to scoping out the forest by Marwen's estate. She would have to risk being seen, but she was out of options. As Ursa mounted her horse once more, she spied a figure downstream. Like her, they appeared to be watering their horses. Ursa decided to risk getting a closer look. If by some chance, it was a man, she had to be sure. If not, she would do what she must.

Ursa slowly strode towards the stranger, moving at a slow enough pace as to not cause any fear. She saw now that the person at the water was a man dressed in furs and worn cloth. She could not help but smile a bit at seeing him. However, the man now panicked as he saw her. He drew out his bow and aimed it at her head.

"Stop right there Orc!"

"Please," said Ursa as she put her hands into the air, "I am no threat. I am Ursa, ally of Talion the Ranger and Queen Marwen of these lands. I seek an audience with her."

"Ursa… the Warchief at the wedding?"

"Yes."

"We thought you dead," said the man.

"Then you are one of Marwen's men, yes?"

"I am," he stated.

"What has become of the Queen?" asked Ursa nervously, fearing the answer.

The man said, "I am unsure. I will take you to Lady Lithariel."

"Lady Lithariel is with you?" said Ursa, feeling a sense of relief.

"Yes. She leads us. Come now, before we are seen by unfriendly eyes."

* * *

Ursa followed the rider into a series of stony hills, sculpted and torn open through the ages. In time, they had come to form a precarious canyon, wide enough to fit a horse between. In the grassy hills of Núrn, places such as these were rare. Ursa was surprised to learn that the tribesmen had come across it. While lacking perfect cover, it was not a bad place to hide from the Orc scouts, at least for a while. Up ahead, Ursa could see a smoldering campfire with a few men and horses around it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she drew closer. At last, after two days, she had a bit of hope.

The men reached for their swords but remained seated. About them were small pouches of supplies and some firewood. However, it was not enough for a base of operations. Ursa dismounted as the warrior explained to her identity to his comrades. She bowed to the tribesmen who seemed quite suspicious of her.

"We can permit her to go no further."

Ursa said, "Lady Lithariel will recognize me. I must speak with her quickly."

"You should not have brought an Orc here," said one of the men, "Especially not a half-breed."

"Ursa?" asked a familiar voice, the voice of a young woman.

Lithariel walked up from behind the men with a catch of hares in her hands. She dropped them beside her company of hunters and approached the Warchief.

She said, "You survived. We heard that your base was taken by the enemy. We feared you were slain."

Ursa said, "I am fortunate to be alive. I must know… what has become of your mother… of the Queen?"

Lithariel's eyes looked pained as she thought on Ursa's question. She brushed aside one of her blonde braids of hair and began to speak.

She said, "She was captured by the Tower. He sent a thousand scouts to search the foothills. Once some of our hunters were spotted, the army marched in and fell upon the palace. My mother fought bravely, like a true pirate queen, and shot many down with her bow. However, the Tower put her under a spell. Many of our finest warriors lost their minds before him."

She continued, "I know that many of my kinsmen were slaughtered in the battle. Nevertheless, most were taken alive to Fort Morn. They will be branded and broken, then delivered to the City of Slaves in the Western fold of Núrn, far out of our reach. The Queen is now his prisoner, although I do not think he will keep her alive for much longer. I was out hunting when the war came. Pursued by Orc and Caragorn, I was unable to aid her in time. I failed her. But I am determined to save her."

"I see," said Ursa, "I will gladly aid you."

"Talion told me of your magic. It will be needed to destroy the Tower, if such a thing is possible."

The Warchief replied, "I must confess I am not well. I was shot in my flight. I hoped you could treat it."

"Let me see it," said Lithariel.

Ursa spread apart the sleeve on her shoulder, already slashed open from her treatments. Her pale flesh was red, swollen, and sensitive. The rag that covered it was soaked in blood. Lithariel untied the cloth and examined the womb.

"Do you know if the arrowhead lodged itself inside?" asked the woman.

"It did not. I assure you." said Ursa

"I must be certain," said the princess.

"The arrow was not of Orc. There will be no trace."

"I do not understand," said Lithariel, "What arrow could…"

She asked, "Ursa… who did this to you?"

In a stern voice, she repeated the question. "Who did this to you?"

Still Ursa said nothing. She could not. It hurt too much say his name, to remember.

"Where is Talion?" asked Lithariel.

Ursa looked at the other woman. Seeing the fear and pain in her eyes, she understood then how much Lithariel cared about him.

She said, "He has fallen under spell."

Lithariel said nothing now. She blinked and looked to her side. Both women were silent for a minute. In the silence, only to be heard was the howl of the wind as it blew through the crevice of the cliff. At last, Lithariel looked down at the Orc whose face had sunk, hidden behind her messy black bangs.

"I must finish treating your wound," said Lithariel.

She grabbed hold of Ursa's arm and brought her eye close to the injury. She grimaced from frustration, unable to perceive the extent of the wound through the blood, puss, and inflammation. She muttered a curse in the Corsair tongue and began to search about for cloth. She grabbed hold of a strip hanging from the side of her horse and returned to the Warchief.

"This may hurt," said Lithariel, "I must look more closely. Brace yourself."

Lithariel pulled out a knife from her belt and rubbed it on her finger, checking its sharpness. She drew it closer to Ursa's wound and placed it right onto the gash. Slowly she began to slice deeper into Ursa's wound. Ursa grunted between the cloth in her mouth. Her teeth gnashed and clenched as she was stricken by a searing pain. Blood was pouring out of her wound as Lithariel examined it. However, Litihariels' fingers did not dig much deeper.

She said, "The wound is shallow. It did not strike the bone of your arm. Had it done so, fragments would soon poison you and nothing more could be done. Well then, we must stitch it."

Lithariel reached into a leather pouch on her belt and searched through its contents. She pulled out a small metal needle and a spool of thread. She had used these tools to close her own wounds before and to repair tears on her tunic. Ursa shut her eyes as the woman stabbed the needle into her sensitive flesh and began to pull it out. Her crimson blood gushed out. Lithariels' eyes fell upon it, finally realizing it was not black like that of the Orcs she slew. It contrasted the unnatural white flesh around the wound. She felt her stomach turn as she began to realize that Ursa was truly of Orc and of man. She resumed her stitching. Having knotted it, she severed the thread.

She said, "I will bring you herbs for the pain and wound. You have not yet caught fever, so you should live. My men will give you food and water. Please remain here and rest. We will think nothing of striking the enemy until the morrow. Do you understand your highness?"

 _Your highness?_

Ursa nodded her head and said, "Very well."

Lithariel turned and began to make her way back down the canyon she had come, her horse in tow.

The Warchief said softly to her, "Lady Lithariel…"

The other woman stopped in her steps for a moment.

"Thank you."

Lithariel did not turn her head nor respond. Rather, she continued to tread down the rocky pathway. She soon vanished into darkness. Ursa shut her eyes. Although the nightmare was not yet over, she could at least escape the terror enough to feel her grief and loneliness. Amidst it, she felt the slightest sense that that her loneliness had faded just a little.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Ursa did not have the heart to tell Lithariel that it may have been Talion that led the enemy to Marwen's camp. Since there was a chance it was merely the scouts, she chose to remain silent.

As always, please leave a review or a comment. Your feedback means everything to me.


	8. The Great Fire and the Calling

**Chapter Eight: The Great Fire and the Calling of the Captain**

The port of slaves, Fort Morn, stood on the edge of the sea. Its vast wooden walls were armed with pikes and metal barbs to keep out intruders. Once it had been a merchant's port where those across the water would come to trade. It was a place of life, diversity, and flourishment. Now it was cursed, a beacon of oppression and slavery. Like the fisheries and farmlands, the port was now used to feed Sauron's armies. Hundreds of broken souls were taken here, branded, and sent out to the Slave City, where they would be exported across the great stretch of Sauron's lands to toil and die.

Atop the wall, facing the stretch of Núrn, was the Tower. Beside him stood his deadliest servant. Talion gazed down at the green, searching for a familiar face. He remained silent, only speaking when necessary. The Tower turned to him and, with a smirk, looked upon the expression on his face.

He said, "You do not smile? In time, you will find joy in it just as my Orcs do. Look to this one."

The Tower pointed to his messenger beside them, awaiting orders. He sported a large toothy smile.

"When he came to me, he was afraid. He sorely missed the brother I had taken for my own and feared the unknown fate that awaited him. Is it truly a horrible fate that has befallen him? One spends their entire life in fear, afraid of failure and pain. If one surrenders themselves to a greater power, only then can they know peace. In the absence of the prisons of their own mind, one finds freedom and joy. Soon you too will smile. When we return to my home, my devices will see to that. You will be burdened no more. No more memories of pain. No more ambitions that keep you awake in the dead of night. No more fear of what you have become."

"Tell me, does a part of you still grieve for what you have done?" asked the Tower.

Talion spoke, "I do not know. I wonder what will become of the Warchief? Am I to hunt her yet again?"

"She brings you only pain" answered his master, "She always has. You must forget her if you are to save yourself."

Talion scowled as he stared down into the far-off forest and mountains. His eyes were searching for something but he did not know what. His gaze was meant for spotting the enemy: the female Warchief and the rebels. Beneath the surface, he sought the thing that he lost. A great fog filled his mind, as a maxim controlled his very being, silently guiding him. Out in the wilderness was something that lay beyond that guidance. He felt that if he found the Warchief, he would find the answer.

* * *

Ursa was awoken several hours into her slumber by one of the tribesmen. They had been staring down at her in bewilderment for a while now, unsure of what to make of the Uruk. Seeing Lithariel, who excelled above them in killing Uruk, care for the half-Orc was strange unto itself. Having one so close and for so long was even stranger.

Only a moment ago, Lithariel had returned from foraging. On her command, the Uruk was awakened. She stirred in her sleep as the guard's boot prodded against her healthy arm. Her golden iris slowly opened. Her reflexes, so sharp before, had dulled in the company of her allies. When she awoke, she felt well-rested. It had not been a long sleep, but it had been far deeper than any in the last two nights. Even the pain in her arm seemed to have weakened, although it still required treatment for the swelling to descend.

"Good morning," said Lithariel.

She turned to one of her men and said, "Bring the Warchief some food and water."

The golden-haired woman then said, "I have brought back the herbs. Some I will grind into a mash and place on your wound. The others are to be ground into a tea."

Ursa said sleepily, "Thank you. I will do my best to regain my strength."

"Indeed," said Lithariel, "If we are to rescue my mother and your… husband, we must make haste."

She struggled to hide her discomfort and awkwardness at calling the Talion the spouse of a half-Orc. However, though it puzzled and bothered her, she did not want to offend Ursa.

Ursa was handed drink and breakfast by the men. Along with a water from a skin, they offered her a small piece of rabbit, a half chunk of potato, a crust of bread, and some assortment of berries. Ursa tried to restrain herself, wanting to look the part of the elegant Warchief. However, her stomach felt infinitely empty, as if it would pull her into an abyss if she did not plug it up. Unable to restrain herself, she quickly downed the food, each bite rich and invigorating. After she ate, she felt a bit of health return to her. It was then that she realized how sick she had been the last two days. She must have had a fever for the most of it, something the sheer cold hid from her. For whatever blessing was upon her, Ursa had survived it against all odds. Although her allies were on their last limbs, their presence filled her with hope. She was not alone.

Lithariel began to use her flint rocks ignite sparks over a set of ash, sticks, and stones. Above it, a tea pot on a frame was placed. Ursa, seeing what she was planning, stretched out her arm.

She said, "Allow me."

Lithariel tilted her head in confusion. However, a second later, she saw the tinder and straw she had laid out on the campfire become ablaze. The small flames cracked as they started to eat away at their meal of twigs and branches. The water in the pot would be bubbling in no time.

"Amazing," said Lithariel, "I did not think I would see magic in my lifetime. At least, besides the time when the white wizard possessed my Queen. To have such a gift, I am envious."

"Such power is not without a price," said Ursa.

Lithariel frowned and asked, "And what is that price Ursa?"

"One must fall. To create flames that devour my enemies as if they were no different than firewood…. A fire that water cannot soon put out… Mine is a dark power. A gift from the enemy. One does not use his power without falling in our own way."

"How did you fall?"

"I learned what it meant to kill. I learned that sometimes you cannot run, barter, or expect someone to save you. I have done terrible things and I must continue to do terrible things. For the sake of peace, I will certainly kill again."

She continued, "I don't wish to hurt anyone. Even so, I will use this power to destroy the Tower and those that threaten these lands."

Lithariel said, "What you call falling, I call a sense of duty, a necessity for all whom are hunted by Orcs."

Ursa said, "This power is beyond any of us. I fear that one day it will consume me. Do you fear that power? Do you fear the power of the enemy?"

"I am grateful to have a sorcerer on our side, but this power invites corruption. One day we might become enemies" answered Lithariel, "I will not lie. I am afraid."

"I see…" said Ursa, "So am I."

She could not forget how she had acted when first possessed. Her cold logic so perfect for fighting the enemy; her logic so lacking in morality and empathy. Though those thoughts had passed, she continued to feel Sauron within her, his mind so close by. Perhaps he need only reach out to take her, or he would slowly poison her heart and mind. The only saving grace for Ursa was the love she felt for her family and the regret she felt for those she had killed. Once she lost those, she was doomed forever.

Lithariel began pouring Ursa a cup of boiling tea. She brought over a small tin cup to her guest. The drink slipped into the delicate hands of the Warchief. It fascinated Lithariel that such a small being could possess such power, power over Uruk and power over flame. It frightened her in a way, but she did not know what to think anymore. Ursa confused her. She confused her knowledge of the Orc and her disdain for them. Lithariel thought such power was wasted on a being of such kindness. Such kindness should not be on a battlefield. It was a tragic thing.

"Thank you," said Ursa before blowing gently on the cup.

After taking a sip of the medicinal tea, the Warchief looked forward, with no object of focus in mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere. It was obvious to Lithariel that the gears in Ursa's head were turning. It was the same face her mother often made in her throne room.

"We cannot enter Fort Morn," said Ursa, "We have no choice but to bring the enemy to us."

One of the men asked, "What use are to use against his illusions?"

Ursa said, "He is not all powerful. I believe he must see his targets to cast his illusion. He must be on the battlefield to do so. What matters most is that we offer him a reason to appear before us. What could draw out the Tower from his castle?"

"What could he value?" asked Lithariel, "He has the Queen and Talion. He has the Warchiefs beside him. Do you plan to offer yourself?"

Ursa said, "We are of value to him. You and I will gain his interest. However, I think there is another weakness that he possesses. Do not forget, the Tower does not wish to remain here. He wishes to sail back to his land across the Sea, to return to his brother with his winnings."

"You mean," asked Lithariel, "the ships? His fleet of ships that are stranded on the shore?"

"I believe," began Ursa, "if we slay his Uruk and burn his ships, the Tower will feel the need to deal with us. Once his scouts report we remain at the shore challenging him, he will spring the trap despite the warning in his heart. He will bring Talion with him."

"What if he does not?" asked a tribesman.

"Then I will burn the last of his ships and he will be stranded here. Perhaps he is happy to spend the next two months building his great ships again. Perhaps he will be happy watching his last enemies disappear into the wilderness, burning his patrols, his camps, and his forests while he cowers."

"You would have us burn the forests?" asked Lithariel, "To turn Núrn into ash like Mordor?"

"I will do what I must," said Ursa, "To save Talion. What about you daughter of Marwen? How far will you go to save your mother… to save your people from pain and death?"

Lithariel then realized how far Ursa would fall to bring victory.

"I have no wish," said the Warchief, "to see these green lands turn to ash. Their beauty has given me such peace and joy. Nevertheless, grass and trees will return in time. The ones we love will not."

"Your words ring true," said Lithariel, "Let us then proceed down this path of darkness. So too will I fall if only to destroy the evil that plagues my land."

* * *

Daybreak at last. The usual cloud cover of Núrn had vanished and a sky of blue now returned. The Orc were forced to cloak themselves and slipped on helms lest their grey skin be seared by the heat. However, the ranks were silent that morning, lacking their usual rowdy behavior. Something left them anxious and silent. Throughout the coast, there was a sense of tension, as if something was about to break.

Walking along the coast was a black-cloaked figure. The Warchief stood atop her horse, briskly making her way to the parked flotilla. Behind her was the Lady Lithariel, atop a white horse. Following in her wake, were fifty men of the wild. They were what remained of her forces, as well as slaves which had been freed a day prior. Ursa had armed them with gear raided form her old war camp. Now with her small force, the Warchief set her trap for the Black Captain.

* * *

Uruk archers up ahead took notice of the small band. Lithariel and a group of archers began to fire on them. The closest Uruk was shot between the eye by one of the war maiden's skillful shots. The Warchief tore on the reigns. Her horse rocketed forward into the small band of Uruk guarding at the front of the ships. All around were similar parties of ten, meaning a total of four hundred Uruk were guarding them. The tribesmen would be no match for so many goblins. Ursa's eyes wavered one last time as she swooped upon the Uruk.

She said, "I am sorry. Truly I am."

She stretched out her hand once more, her black robes rippling behind her as she set the Uruk ablaze. All she gazed upon was consumed by fire. The army of Orcs screamed and shrieked as they burned. They ran to the sea for the flames to be put out. The tribesmen chased after them, firing arrows into their backs. The Warchief continued to ride forward. She created a massive torrent of fire and unleashed it like a falling star upon the ranks. The Uruk were blasted in all directions as her magic plummeted into the sand and stone. Lithariel now pulled out her sword and began to slash into the Orcs. Their quick, clumsy style was no match for a warrior who did not fear such movements. Their war cries were quickly replaced with calls for help as she ran her blade through them. She showed no fear as she charged an entire party of Orcs. She parried her sword off ones Orc's swing, angling her blade over his so that it slid down into his throat. She delivered a kick to her right, cracking open the shin another other Orc. Her sword slashed open the downed goblin's throat as she on the rest of the enemy swordsmen. Lithariel's own men were equally as brave as her. Though some fell, the tribesmen quickly prevailed on the scattered Uruk. After an hour of battle, hundreds of Orcs lay dead. The white sands were stained from battle and the pure waters ran black with the blood of Ursa's fellow Uruk.

Ursa now turned her attention to the great ships. She could not set them ablaze as easily as a small Orc. Instead, she traced her hand along the bow of the ship to the stern. The top of the ship caught fire and roared as the dried wood was consumed. Like painting a canvas, she slowly set the entire hull on fire. The long beams and fabric of the sails soon vanished like matchwood.

"Lady Lithariel!" shouted Ursa, her voice unwavering and filled with determination, "The tide is upon us. Send you men aboard the rightmost ships. Drag them to the sea and sink them."

"You heard her!" said Lithariel, "Secure our vessels!"

Ursa had seen far ahead. If she survived this battle, she would have need of these great ships. She had no idea how to construct them and few of her Uruk were likely to. Perhaps the corsairs in Marwen's forces had some idea, but it was still faster to sink them close to shore and salvage them later on. Right now, the coastline was ablaze as black smoke poisoned the air, taking the form of a vengeful storm cloud. Sparks and ash fell down like snow across the land. The air became hot, cloudy, and hard to inhale. Despite the inferno they had created, the rebellion continued to fight. As Ursa had ordered, one ship was still standing on the beach.

Ursa rode up to one of the tribesmen. She looked to him and declared, "Bring me a prisoner."

* * *

Talion strode forward on foot, heading the slow war party as marched towards the black smoke on the horizon. His master rode behind him, his massive form towering above his Orc garrisons.

The Tower said, "Such confidence. Or is it desperation? She knows that time is running up. Either she devours her enemies in one swelling flame or she is devoured here this day."

Talion said nothing as he gazed ahead. His eyes were quickly glancing about for the black robes of the Warchief. He heard the command to slay the she-Orc echo and fester in his mind. However, something else drew him to her. The ranger grimaced as he failed to find the answer to what troubled him, just as he failed to find what it was that he had lost. No matter what it was, he felt it would soon be lost forever.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I apologize for the week-long delay. I was feeling under the weather. If you have a moment, please leave a review. It means the world to me.


	9. The Broken Mind and the Fires of Sauron

**Chapter Nine: The Broken Mind and the Fire of Sauron**

"Celebrimbor…"

A voice as soft and rhythmic as a song. A revitalizing river. A voice that tore at his mind in the most beautiful way.

The Ringmaker stood in the white halls of his great house. His dark, brown hair came down in long locks, shimmering from the sunlight that slipped in through the windows. He was a handsome elf, beautiful and elegant in face and dress. He wore on his head a silver crown carved like vines and a dark green set of robes covered him. The Elf looked down at his hands, but did not fully recognize his body. He trembled as he felt the freezing air on his flesh, no longer passing through him. Once he had tasted, felt, pained, and loved. How could he have forgotten?

How could he have forgotten them?

In front of the Elf lord stood an Elven woman with a soft complexion and long golden hair, wearing beautiful raiment of ivory and gold. To her left, was a young girl smiling brightly as she gazed upon him.

 _It only an illusion._

 _I must wake._

 _The Dark Lord taught his Black Captain of his past, showing his memories of when we met in this hall._

 _This is but a memory…._

"My love," said the woman, "What troubles you?"

As Celebrimbor gazed up at her, he felt his eyes become blurry. Tears trailed down his face, the first tears in hundreds of years. The memory was too beautiful. He could not deny it. All this time, he had lived on knowing he would never see them again. He never expected to.

His wife's hand reached out and brushed him on the arm. Her touch felt real. His daughter now threw herself onto his waist, her arms wrapping tightly around him. His two great loves. His world.

It was like waking up from a terrible nightmare.

"I'm home."

* * *

With his surrender and the surrender of Talion, the Tower grabbed hold of their minds. As Talion stood frozen in the battlefield, their minds had wrestled for control. Even under illusion, the Wraith and Talion had defiantly fought the branding. Now, as Talion fell into despair and Celebrimbor into paradise, a dark force ravaged them. It was such a silent defeat.

* * *

Talion and the Wraith strode forward now. Their eyes, grey and gloomy, hunted diligently for their prey. Both remained unaware of what they had lost, although loss whispered to them. What was left of the great ships stood about a hundred meters away from them. Like grand pyres, the Warchief's handiwork sent up black clouds and golden embers. The battalions marched past the scattered remains of the Orc foot soldiers that had been slaughtered when Ursa took the coast. Piles of them were stacked around them and many Orc heads were placed atop of pikes. Ahead, they could see the small gathering of the rebellion. In the center of their numbers, stood a figure clad in black and gold. Beside her was a woman with golden hair and clothes like the grassy pastures.

The ranger pulled out his ivory bow, illuminated to the enemy. What his enemy could not see was the Elf who pulled on the string with him. He did not hesitate to take down the two maidens before him. The Gravewalker vanished with the wind and reappeared in front of both figures. Lithariel, reeled back, drawing out her sword to fight the invader. Talion slashed at the Warchief to her side, who had remained still. As his swing finished, the figure was cut in two. He quickly realized that it was a dummy of straw and black cloth that he had hewn down. Rather than return to his master, he followed his orders and charged for Lithariel. He kicked aside one of her tribesmen as he pulled out his sword. Sparks flew through the air as his sword collided with the war maiden's own.

FWZICK!

All heard the whistle of an arrow firing from Lithariel's ranks. It shot upwards and landed ahead of the Black Tower's forces. The Uruk stopped for a second and cackled. They wondered if it was a warning shot or a failed attempt to get in an easy kill. If so, it had fallen short of any target. In this matter, the Uruk were gravely mistaken. It was a signal for the ones who saw it that no great illusion was cast.

From behind the Tower, a lanky Orc began to move up through the ranks. The face of this Orc was obscured behind a helm like that of a falcon. It stretched out a pale white hand at the Black Captain. The Black Captain let out a roar of pain as he felt his back catch fire. Even as he burned, he did not hesitate to turn around and swoop upon his prey. There in disguise was Ursa the Cunning. His own hand shot out, his palm practically pressed against that of the Warchief's. He swiftly cast his illusion upon her and her flames subsided.

"What do you fear little Orc?" asked a cold voice.

Ursa saw a pale arrow land beside her. Talion, his eyes black and hollow, fell upon her. His blade was bloody from slaying Lithariel. Ursa, in her shock, could do nothing as he slashed open her chest. The pain she felt was terrifyingly real, not something she had expected. This illusion was as real as the mind made it, so it seemed. It drowned out her senses. The ranger grabbed her by the throat and tossed her to the ground. Ursa struggled as he straddled himself upon her. She pushed at his face, but could do nothing as he took his dagger and shoved it into her eye. She let out a blood-curdling scream as it ran into her brain.

She was alive again. This time in a dungeon hanging by rusty old chains. She looked to her feet and found only bloody stumps. Her feet were laying on the ground with rats feasting upon them. Into the room walked the Tower, with a set of prongs in his hands. Two large Black Orcs unchained her. They pinned her against the wall now.

"Stop!" she begged.

"You have no need for that second eye, an eye that blasphemes against its master. You will make for an obedient dog, crawling on the ground, living only for the amusement of myself. A fitting fate for a lesser Orc that thought themselves a Warchief."

"What do you fear?" he asked again.

"Ignore the pain," thought Ursa, "See through the illusion. That which is real cannot be so easily hidden. Though my mind plays tricks on me, the fire will burn away the lies."

The Tower stood with his hand upon Ursa's forehead, ready to bind her to his will. Two large Uruk held her there by the arm. She hung there limply, her head sunk downwards and her eye shut. Suddenly, her eye opened, illuminated by the fires of Mount Doom.

The two Orcs screamed as they were hit by a wave of fire. They released Ursa, who stood up straight now. The Tower cackled as his wrists were charred. He swiftly retreated and prepared a more powerful illusion. Right then, the grass began to burn. Like a whirlpool, fire spiraled around the Warchief. The dozens of Orcs around her were blasted back by an eruption. The Tower covered his eyes as the fire burned through the flesh of his arms. Although Ursa was trapped in illusion, she stared directly at him, her eye cold and ready for death. She stretched out her arm and summoned a ball of fire. Great streams of flame entwined around it until it was as small as an eye. She then reached out and fired it. The flames expanded into an avalanche that streamed across the ground, scorching all in its path. As the Tower felt the flesh on his shins melting off, the illusion shattered like a broken looking glass. It had been so long since he had felt true pain.

"So, without your own mind focused," asked Ursa, "the illusion cannot be maintained? It is a great power to be able to fool so many and so perfectly, but it seems even this spell has a weakness. I wonder then that if I kill you, will Talion be saved?"

"Stand and fight!" ordered the Tower to his men.

The goblins did not heed him. In face of a greater power, their fear turned to the Warchief, to the Witch. The army of four hundred began to split apart, lest they be hit. Around Ursa and the Tower a wave of fire formed, creating a perfect ring. The braver Orcs that fired into the blaze, found their arrows instantly incinerated by the heat, metal arrowhead and all.

The Black Captain said, "How cunning of you to set such a trap as this!"

"Even so…" he continued, "you were foolish to not finish me quickly."

Ursa fell once more into an illusion as she was pulled back into the dungeon where the Tower tore out her other eye. There in the dark she lay trapped as a sea of blood poured into the chamber. She struggled as the blood reached her chin and soon overcame her. In moments, she found herself drowning. She panicked and kicked in vain. She felt the liquid pour down her throat and fill her lungs. The despair of death returned.

Ursa would not have it. Even as she was destroyed yet again, she grit her teeth and set the ground below him on fire. The Tower hissed as the illusion was shattered for the second time.

The Warchief said, "You asked what it was that I fear. I fear much, but that fear is known to me. These illusions mean nothing. What can you possibly do that I have no imagined, that I have not felt? I have known pain and torture all my life. Do not insult me by using the guise of it. What nightmare can you show me that does not already exist in my head or been inflicted on my body? Leave the living and the dying in peace. They already suffer from their first breathe to their last. But you… you will feel great pain I assure you. Know a taste of what you have inflicted on others. Suffer as they have suffered. Suffer as I have suffered and be consumed in the fires of your master."

The Tower let out a groan as his form became consumed in flames. He did not resist, but stood in the face of his enemy. Ursa remembered how she had consumed the Uruk he had sent long ago. However, the Tower's own smile began to fade. Ursa's fires began to turn his arms to ash. He at last let out a roar of pain.

"How dare you touch him!" said Ursa, "Was it not enough you stole his world from him? How dare you threaten my child! How dare you torture the innocent! Go now and suffer others no more."

With that, her fire swept over him entirely. She would torture him no more, knowing now that he understood. She watched as the Black Captain, who had stricken so many with fear, violated the minds of the innocent, and tortured both friend and foe, fell to Sauron's wrath. Not but a fine ash was left in his wake. By the morning, it would be scattered to the wind, indistinguishable from the sand that lined the white shore.

* * *

Lithariel spun her leg to the side, barely avoiding the ranger's downward slash. She tried to hold her ground, but Talion's aggressive strikes continued to push her backwards. As Orc horsemen swept on their position, her tribesmen struggled to protect her. Lithariel's eyes darted with fear as she wondered how she could defeat him. Though it pained her, she was ready to kill her beloved Talion. He would simply return as he always had. On the other hand, her own life was nearing its end. Her sword slid off the edge of her opponent's. As it neared his face, Talion moved his footing to beside her. Lithariel matched him, maneuvering to the side to face him. The ranger did not parry her blade this time, but delivered a swift kick that knocked her to the ground. She rolled to the side as he slashed deep into the soil. A second later, she sent a thrust forward at his shoulder. Talion tore his sword up to the side, sending her weapon veering off course. The female warrior ducked below his horizontal swing and then jabbed forward. Again, Talion retreated and blocked it, only to charge forward again, giving her little openings. Lithariel now dashed back away to gain some distance between them. A tribesman came to her aid and moved ahead of her. He swung his axe at Talion's head. The ranger twisted to the side so the axe hit only the air. Meanwhile, Talion's blade slashed open the man's leg. Talion then resumed charging the woman. She pulled out a dagger from her hip and tossed at his throat. Talion grit his teeth as he managed to deflect it off its course. She then grabbed hold of her sword. Before she could get a firm grip, Talion fired an arrow. Lithariel was skillful enough block Talion's blow as he reappeared in front of her. However, the ranger immediately grabbed her sword hand and kneed her in the stomach. As she buckled and gagged from the blow, her opponent took her by the throat and slammed her into the ground. Lithariel's eyes lit up in fear as she realized she would not be able to rescue her mother, no less survive. She watched his cold, dead eyes as he pulled his sword back above his head and then swung down to split open her head.

In that moment, Talion faltered. His sword came crashing to the side of her ear. Lithariel was frozen as she looked up in confusion.

"Lithariel?" asked Talion, "What have I done?"

When she looked up, Lithariel did not see the cold ranger who had hunted her like an Orc. She saw Talion; she saw the face of a man filled with worry, horror, and regret.

"The spell was broken," stated Lithariel, "The Tower is no more."

"Where is Ursa?" asked Talion, "Where is my wife?"

"In battle. You must go to her."

Talion asked, "Did I hurt you? Did I hurt your men?"

"Only a little. I will tend to their wounds. Go quickly to where she is!"

Lithariel smiled softly as she watched the ranger vanish. He would reappear in the fray of the Witch's inferno. She understood then that their paths were not the same.

The Uruk continued to scatter in all manner of directions. However, most of them fled towards Fort Morn, hoping for protection against the sorcerer. Several Uruk did not follow in their wake. They shook their heads and looked around at their surroundings. They said nothing but their faces all expressed confusion. For them too, the nightmare had ended.

* * *

The Witch stood surrounded by a ring of fire. At last, she let out a sigh and the flames vanished. Ursa turned now and looked at the figure standing ahead of her. He said nothing as he watched her. Ursa's eyes began to well up with tears.

"Talion… is that really you?"

"The moment you slew him, I was free. I… what can I say to make this right? I nearly killed you. I almost murdered our child. Ursa, please forgive me."

"My lord," said Ursa, "Come here."

Talion ran forward and his broad arms came around her. For a corpse, the warmth of his body seemed to rejuvenate her. Within themselves, they felt something become whole again. Ursa felt herself breathe for the first time in days. She swooped up and kissed her husband on the mouth. He reciprocated the kiss, gently putting a hand beneath her chin as he cradled her there.

As they parted, Ursa said, "It would be cruel to blame you. You were a prisoner."

"Even so, I should have fought harder," said Talion, "I should have fought harder. I tried to fight him. I did…. I…."

She saw him beginning to cry now.

He asked, "Why was I so weak? What countless unforgivable acts would I have done under his command?"

"You spared my life," said Ursa, "when first you came upon me. When I mentioned our child, you fired upon my shoulder rather than my heart."

"You cannot know that."

"I know it. I knew you would never kill me." She said, "I understand that now."

"No, you do not. When first we met, I ignored your pleading. I sought to slay you and now I have done so again. You are right to fear me Ursa."

"I am not afraid," she cried, "Here I stand as a testament to our love. If you wish to make me feel safe, then return to my side. Be the father our child needs and the husband that I took an oath to."

"Besides," she began, "Do not pity me when you have endured such a terrible thing. Oh Talion, I'm so sorry. I should have rescued you sooner. Forgive me."

Talion, amidst his tears, let out a smile. He asked, "How can you say that? You saved me."

"We must go on saving each other for the rest of our lives" she said.

"We shall. I know it." he said softly to her.

Talion and Ursa shut their eyes and smiled. Talion grabbed the back of her head and leaned it up against his own. They basked in each other's company for a moment, forgetting the horrors they had only now escaped. In this moment, there was only their love.

When they parted, Ursa saw a strange Uruk walking up to her. She had not expected it. He carried no weapon in his hands. She stepped back in surprise and fear, almost forgetting her earlier feats.

The Uruk seemed familiar to her somehow. He was a blue in color and bore a sad expression.

He said quietly to her, "My brother… you've avenged him. You freed me you did."

"You should not thank me. It was I who destroyed him. He was the assassin the Tower sent upon me a season ago."

"I know," said the Uruk, "Even so, it was better than living as he did… as I did. Even now, I feel 'em in my head. I felt so happy but so cold. I was me but I… wasn't really me. It was all a lie, a terrible dream. I screamed to wake up but I couldn't."

She saw the Uruk began to tremble now.

She said, "You are free. Free to go where you will."

"I'll serve you," he said, "As thanks."

Ursa smiled softly at him and put her thin hand upon his shoulder. She said, "I will gladly take any who will pledge service. You are welcome amongst my ranks."

The Uruk nodded and said, "My thanks."

Talion now walked out of the battlefield back towards the Ursa's war camp. Around his arm was wrapped that of the Warchief. She beamed as she clung to her husband. They soon reached Lithariel who had a smile on her own face as she saw them. However, her smile faded as she saw Ursa stretch out her hands and extinguish the flames of her own doing. All that remained was the blackened hulls of the black ships, smoking from what remained of the heat. She thought it strange that Sauron's morningstar would hand over such a frightening level of power. Power without end that the mind could so easily wield, flames that could endlessly burst forth like a mountain of fire and lava. Nevertheless, she was grateful that Ursa's sorcery and the ghostly abilities of Talion were not aimed at her people. She hoped the day would never come in which they were.

* * *

At Ursa's camp, in the Warchief's tent, the three heroes broke bread and drank from skins of wine. They had eaten little in all this time. Outside, the tribesmen were in awe to be surrounded by Ursa's docile Orcs. Beside the Warchief, was her lieutenant Flog and the she-Orc that was her strategist, as well as a host of bodyguards. Not a single goblin seemed to even notice the humans in the camp, just as Talion had commanded it.

As Talion swallowed a small chunk of cheese, he asked, "I must know how you came to save me."

"We spent a long night of planning," said Ursa.

"Our greatest fear," began Lithariel, "was that my mother would be taken hostage. If so, she might be hurt amidst Ursa's flames. In the end, we decided to risk it lest we lose everything."

Ursa added, "I sought out the Queen in his ranks, but I'm afraid she was nowhere to be found."

Talion said, "She is still being held captive in the fortress. I will rescue her Lithariel. I promise."

"I know," said Lithariel, "We will have to take Fort Morn and soon."

She continued, "The Tower must not have wanted to risk all his pieces in a single battle. He thought Talion would be enough to barter."

Ursa said, "He may have been right. I am relieved that we did not meet again in the battlefield."

"I am not," said Lithariel with a laugh, "It was the most terrifying fight of my life. I have felled many great Uruk and bested many men, but Talion fought with the strength of ten."

"My apologies," said Talion.

"I will be sure to even the score one day," said Lithariel with a smile.

"More to the point, you have not yet explained your strategy," said the ranger.

"Ursa should explain. It was she who realized how to deal with his illusions."

Ursa said to Talion, "When you returned to me under his spell, I realized the slaves were not as I had seen them. If so, his illusion was cast over all. To answer the threat of the Tower's magic, we used a signal only we would know of. I was to dress up as a fallen Orc in the battlefield. I would then slip deep into his ranks as his attention was fixed on the uprising before him. An arrow was to be fired when the enemy reached the ships. If it did not, I would know that I was under his illusion and retreat. To my great relief, the Tower did not take such measures."

Lithariel said, "I wager his last victory made him arrogant."

"I must be honest," said Ursa, "For all our strategizing, our plan was ultimately rash. Lithariel had to risk her life against you and I was to simply burn away all around me in hopes it would wound the Tower. I fear this power has made me reckless."

"How feel you?" asked Talion.

"No different my lord," said Ursa.

However, she remembered how she had tortured the Tower before finishing him off. She wondered if that villainy she had enacted was her own doing. As much as she resented the Tower, she felt ashamed for how she had treated him.

"My lord," asked the Warchief, "where is Celebrimbor? Why did he not free you? Surely the Tower's illusion did not work on him."

"The Tower was formidable. By entering my mind, he found the one possessing it. I know that an illusion was cast on both of us. What he saw I do not know. Now he says nothing. It is as if he is… as if he is mourning."

"It must have been something painful," said Ursa, her eyes becoming somber.

Talion looked to the floor as he said, "His illusions felt real. He made you think it was real. He showed you what you wanted the most and then took it from you. Before you knew it, you had fallen into nightmare and despair. Forgive me, I have not the heart to tell you anymore."

"Your wife and child…." said Ursa.

"I was a fool to even believe for a moment. All to chase such a dream and abandon you."

"I don't think it's foolish" said his wife.

Talion added, "I should have seen through his illusion and noticed Ioreth was not herself. Perhaps I too was not my usual self."

Lithariel, after swallowing a bit of wine, asked, "What now? What will we do?"

"I will take the land of Núrn." said Ursa, "I will send my men to salvage the ships we sunk. The port of slaves will be taken as will the minds of the Warchiefs here. Alas, we must continue to do business with Mordor lest the Dark Lord turn his gaze to us and send an army to retake these lands."

"You will soon be pregnant heavily with child," said Talion, "I do not wish to risk the child anymore."

Ursa said, "I can still be of use to you, for a little while at least. With these powers, I can scatter the hordes just as I did against the Tower's army. Peace for this land is possible at last. Shouldn't we strike?"

Talion grimaced. He disliked hearing Ursa agreeing to murder others, something she would not have done a few months ago. Still, she did not seem as sinister as when she first awakened her powers.

Talion said, "Very well. In the morning, we will make for Fort Morn. I will make my way up its walls, slay any archers, and find the Queen. Ursa, you will use your flames to burn a hole into the main gate. It should be enough to distract them as I rescue her. You should then retreat until all the archers are dead. Do not forget I have branded Kalug. I will take the rest of his camp tonight. With the two hundred Orc, you have and the hundred in his fortress, we will storm the Morn. Lithariel, we will need your aid as well. Gather your tribesmen. Tomorrow, we will set free hundreds of your kin."

"Yes," said Lithariel with a nod, "Yes! Let us suffer that abominable fortress no more. It is time we retake the lands for Núrn. One day soon, Thaurband too will fall, we will retake our forests, and Sauron will be deprived of his farmlands. Núrn will become a land of freedom just as it once was."

"To others," said Ursa, "Núrn is a land controlled by the seven Warchiefs. In truth, it will be once more ruled by Queen Marwen and myself. It must be a silent rule. Though rumors will spread of what I have done today and that the tribesmen flourish, we must not reveal ourselves."

Talion said, "Six Warchiefs under your control. You will then truly be a queen."

"Ah, but my lord, the Uruk are under your control, are they not?" said Ursa, "You then are the king."

"I care not to rule this land. I am merely their commander. You must guide the Orc. Though I control them, you should teach them to live without whip and sword."

Ursa blinked in surprise, knowing he recalled her words long ago about her desire to reform her race. She dreamed of a day where his binding was not needed, where Uruk, like the one she had met today, chose willingly to defy Lord Sauron.


	10. The Slaver Port and the Conquest of Núrn

**Chapter Ten: The Slaver's Port and the Conquest of Núrn**

Ursa watched as her hero slipped away into the night. Right now, she desperately wanted him by her side, for his sake and for hers. She wanted to leave the camp and return to their home. However, Marwen's safety was more important than either of their feelings. And so Ursa returned to her bed and tried to drift off to sleep. She would need these moments of rest. The days ahead would be of fire and bloodshed.

* * *

In the first light of dawn, the goblins stirred at the sound of footsteps. They woke to see an army of Uruk, dressed in the armors of Kalug, approaching the camp. The tribesmen drew out swords and were sore afraid. However, they soon realized that the small army was being led by both the Warchief Kalug and the ranger from the North.

Talion said, "These armies are now under the command of Ursa the Cunning. You are to serve her every order and without fail."

He looked at the other men in the camp, all wide-eyed as they stared at him, and he said to them, "Make ready now. We march for Fort Morn to free your queen."

With his orders given, the ranger strode briskly through the camp and towards the tent of his beloved. He saw the half-Orc appear from behind the curtains that covered the entrance to her quarters. Ursa wore a dark crimson blanket over her long, black nightgown. She wiped her eyes and then looked up at Talion.

"My lord," she whispered, "You have returned."

"I have."

He took Ursa into his arms and kissed her softly on the lips. She peered over his shoulder, a feat only possible by standing on the tip of her toes. She managed a glimpse of the garrison there.

She said, "You branded so many. Two hundred. No. Three?"

"Indeed," he said, "I had Kalug tell them the ranger was still under the control of the Tower's spell and they were to receive powers, much like yours. Eager fools."

"Such a cunning ranger"

"Such a cunning little Orc"

"You must be tired," she said, "Come and rest."

"I will eat breakfast. When Lithariel returns, we must leave. The longer we wait, the more the Queen may suffer, and the Uruk will have time to prepare Morn's defenses."

Ursa yawned, letting out a light chirp as she did. Talion smiled and rubbed the top of her eyelids. She shut her eyes and let him finish the gesture, feeling herself blush as he doted on her. From behind them, Lithariel stood with her mouth ajar. It was still strange for her to see Talion interact with an Orc as if she were a maiden of Gondor. Still, she let out a small smile.

Talion looked at Ursa's face and saw some red markings upon it.

"You have been out in the sun too long," said Talion, "Have you no ointment?"

'I do. Orc often use oil made from the fat of Caragorn. It reeks, but it sooths the skin. I will prepare some. What about yourself? I will bring you a cool towel to wash your face."

"You two are as affectionate as a couple half your age," said Lithariel, "So early in the morning too. My, my."

"Lithariel," said Talion, "You spent the night here?"

She answered, "Ursa provided a tent for me and my men."

"This camp reeks of Orc, but not much worse than these lads" she said as she pointed to her warriors.

"In any case," said Lithariel, "Let us speak of the plan once more. I would see my mother returned to her kingdom before the sun has set."

Both Talion and Ursa gave her a nod of agreement.

* * *

As Talion approached the fortress on the coast, he remembered why, even with all his power, he avoided Fort Morn. Once a Corsair port, it had been rebuilt into a monstrosity. From a distance, great plumes of smoke were visible, a sign of the industry burning within. The city was nigh impenetrable with wooden walls over a hundred feet in height with sharpened pikes, nails, and blades tied to the top. The only way to enter was through the central gate, marked by a train of slaves entering and exiting. From what Talion had gathered, a thousand Uruk were stationed within its walls and another four hundred resided around it, far too much to brand in a single day. What Talion sought was the three Warchiefs that hid behind its defenses: Dhaub the Barbaric, Nug the Wasp, and Zaxuleg the Slaver. Zaxuleg was likely the most dangerous as he ruled the fort and knew all of its workings. As for the other three Warchiefs, Kalug was already branded and the other two had locked themselves away in their lesser fortresses.

Talion looked to the sea and saw the crude ships of the Uruk travel to and fro. Some were bringing in slaves from far off ports while others carried supplies across the great lake to the fortress of the Black Captains in Ered Glamhoth. Not a moment later, Fort Morn's great doors roared as they opened. A train of fifty slaves were led by a guard of Uruk on horseback, Caragorn, and Warg. They were being shipped to Thaurband. While Nargroth, another trade city lay nearby, the winding mountain road delayed the journey by a month. Many slaves would escape in the caverns and thousands of Caragorn and wild Warg prowled the clifftops. Instead, Fort Morn shipped to Thaurband who sent slaves and supplies up a straight road up the Gorgoroth plateau. From what Talion knew of it, Fort Morn's horrors could not compare to what lie in wait in that accursed City of Slaves. A cruel fate for those that deserved better. It was said to be home to an Uruk whose might surpassed even that of Belos. The ranger knew that Marwen desperately wanted to invade the City of the Slaves, but she would need an army far larger than her own to do so. One day he would lend her his aid. Both Ursa and himself had promised the Queen so. For now, Núrn would have to settle with losing its prime slave port, no doubt a heavy blow to the slave trade. However, business with Mordor in the regards to shipping food and resources would have to continue. They were not ready to face Sauron's army should they deprive him of the Orc's main food source. It was best to appease him until the day Talion could craft an army large enough to challenge the Dark Lord.

The ranger fired one of his arrows into the wooden wall of the fortress. The arrow stuck deep into one of the beams. With another arrow, he reappeared against the wall and grabbed hold of the arrow nailed there. He swiftly drew out his broken sword and stabbed it into the wall above his right. The ranger plucked out the ghostly arrow and used it to anchor himself up higher. He swiftly scuttled over to a set of wooden beams used to bring up lumber. The ranger then leapt up a good four feet, managing to latch onto a wooden notch used to secure the upper frame of the wall. With his dagger in hand, he reached the carved-up railings of the top of the wall.

"Excellent," he whispered, "I'm practically done."

To his disappointment, the Wraith offered no retort to his sarcasm. Though he aided Talion, he continued to be distant except when truly needed. The ranger wondered if he should dare pry on the reason for it. Although they had been bound together for over a year now, Talion could not say how close they truly were.

The ranger vaulted over the pikes, stopping himself short so that his leg held him up on a far-off spearhead. Around him, he saw the metallic blades and nails used to catch intruders. Worse, he saw an archer approaching his position. Talion breathed in and launched himself off the beam, onto the thin walkway of the wall. As he landed, he quickly summoned the Elven bow and fired it at the archer. The goblin let out a high pitch shriek of surprise. The second Talion was beside him, he stabbed the Uruk in the stomach. Pulling out the blade, he spun it above him so that it cut cleanly through the Orc's neck. Its liberated head landed softly on the walkway. Several Uruk looked about for the source of the noise, but then returned to their business.

Talion gazed ahead, A dozen guards were stationed on the roof. He had to move quickly. He slipped atop one of the metal wires that hung across the fortress. They were used to deliver supplies from the second floors of buildings to the fortress's shoots or packing centers. Talion was impressed that goblins, often so thick-headed, could construct such things. In fact, he caught a glimpse of Orcs packing supplies on a nearby building, although most of the laborers were slaves. The ranger showed no fear as he ran across the thin wiring, not once losing balance. He ignored the sights around him, of the industrial houses sending up black smokes as they built war machines or the cries of slaves being rounded up in the center of the fortress. His eyes were searching for the Warchiefs. It would be troublesome if they hid indoors.

* * *

Within a few minutes, Talion spotted two unique Orcs: a muscular broad-shouldered Orc and one with taller, thinner proportions. Both were adorned in thick armor and tribal decorations like the horns of cows and the skulls of Caragorn. Each was surrounded by a flock of well-armored Orc and were yelling out at the top of their lungs. From what he gathered, the Warchiefs were arguing about who owned the slaves that were being shipped, or trying to establish territories. Given the fortress was ruled by Zaxuleg the Slaver, Dhaub the Barbaric and Nug the Wasp's quarrel was useless, brought out by their overly-masculine tendencies more than anything.

Talion looked about for a way to remove some of the Orcs. He wanted these Warlords alive, but the others were free to die. He spotted beside them one of his usual methods of exterminating Uruk: fire. The Wraith's arrows could, upon order, expand with such explosive force that the wind around them would swell up. Talion fired the arrow into a large campfire where a set of lazy Orcs were grilling up sausages. The wind from the arrow exploded as he had intended, engulfing the unfortunate guards in fire. The Warchiefs stopped their feuding to stare at the spectacle as their Orcs were charred or ran away screaming, searching for water to put out the flames.

Talion now fired an arrow down upon one of the strong lieutenants. The arrow pierced him right between the opening in his visor, puncturing him square in the skull.

As the goblin fell over dead, another shouted, "Shaugit!"

"Where?" asked another Orc, "I don't see none."

"He's been shot he has!" said the first Orc, "We should sound the alarm."

"Something," began Talion as he fired another arrow, "I cannot allow."

The Orc was hewn in half as Talion's feet touched the ground. The two hulking Warchiefs looked at him and bellowed. Dhaub, large and ferocious, pulled out a thick cleaver, barbed on one side. Nug grabbed hold of a pike from his back, likely laced in venom. In that moment, Talion was swarmed on all sides by the Orcs. He vaulted off the shield of one brute and ran his sword into a small orc. As he emerged, he rolled to the side. One of the Warchief's pikes, aimed for the intruder, landed in the back of his shield guard. The Orc began to spasm and foam as the venom ran through his veins. Talion dashed forward now, wanting to get this one out of the way, so that he could focus on Dhaub's swordsmanship. He did not wait for the Warchief to grab another javelin. He rammed him with his shoulder, sending the Uruk on his back. Talion ran his blade down at the Uruk's shoulder. The Orc bellowed as it was pierced and snapped its jaws at Talion. Talion blocked the bite with his arm, letting the Uruk's fangs sink into his leather gauntlet. He bashed the Uruk on the top of his head with his sword's hilt and summoned the Wraith.

"I see you!" said Celebrimbor as he shattered his enemy's mind and dominated it. The Warchief struggled no more.

"Retreat!" shouted Talion.

The Warchief shifted backwards and ordered his Uruk to fall back. Talion now faced only half the numbers from earlier. He launched forward and bashed his sword into Dhaub's massive cleaver. The Warchief roared, sending saliva into the ranger's face. He then bashed his head into Talion and shoved him backwards. Right then, his guards all swung at Talion. Talion weaved between them and sent his sword spinning around him, knocking back their strikes. The Uruk found no opening as he danced around them, avoiding strikes from behind, catching them with his cross guard, and wrestling the Uruk to the ground so he could impale them. The Warchief charged forward now and slashed down at the ranger. Talion grabbed the blade of one of the Uruk's whose sword was colliding with his own. He turned the sword against the Warchief's. As the blades clashed and chipped, Talion used his own sword to slash the Uruk in the side of his torso. However, the armor proved too thick to slash through. The Orc chieftain swung again forcing the ranger to parry it at the last second. The cleaver slid off his blade and into the neck of the Orc hostage. Amidst cries of "man filth" and "scum", the ranger charged forward and blasted the Warchief with the Wraith's white fire. The Warchief was blinded by the flash of light. In that moment, Talion took hold of his mind and created another ally.

* * *

Talion sent his two Warchiefs into the large stone quarters of Zaxuleg. From above, he cut down archers and made his way to the slave driver's hiding place. His eyes found a small opening into the building, one of the upper windows that brought light into the throne room. The ranger's broad shoulders barely managed to slip inside the window. Here he hung from a stone notch in the window sill. He turned around and kicked hard off the wall. The ranger landed on a massive chandelier that hung form the center of the ceiling. The diamonds and pearls that adorned it jingled as he rocked atop of it. He saw the bulky form of the Warchief look up from his throne to check what the sound was. Fortunately, Talion was hidden by the darkness of the room. In that moment, the entrance to the estate crashed open as the Warchiefs marched in.

"What are you two doing?" asked Zaxuleg, "You are guests. Get out of here or I'll have your guts strung up on the gates."

"Not this time Zaxuleg," said Dhaub, "This time you die."

Talion was surprised to hear them react verbally to the order he had given them. However, he had no time to do think on it. The slaver arose. This old Uruk was shockingly tall, standing about seven feet with a body thick with muscle and fat. He towered over Dhaub and Nug, already monstrous Orc in their own right. Zaxuleg and his bodyguards now pulled out their weapons. The Warchief drew out a large hammer, the stone on its tip a foot in length. While excessive, the Uruk showed no difficulty wielding it as he hurled it at the traitors. Dhaub and Nug stepped backwards to avoid it. The hammer came crashing into the ground, cracking open the stone flooring.

"You damn fools! The Tower's dead and you decide to shank me now?" said Zaxuleg as he spat on the ground.

The battle quickly erupted. Dhaub made short work of the Orc chief's bodyguards, slashing through their throats with his massive cleaver. Meanwhile, Nug tossed a pike at the slaver's chest. Zaxuleg leapt to the side and landed on his shoulder. He quickly scrambled back upwards and charged forward. He bashed his hammer into Nug's stomach, crushing his ribs. Right then, Dhaub took Zaxuleg from the side and charged him into the wall. Despite being caught off-guard, the slaver managed to hold his hammer. As Dhaub punched him in the back with a first of iron, Zaxuleg pushed back off the wall. He wrestled with the other Warchief, but managed to turn around. Meanwhile, Nug tossed a javelin into the last of the minions. Right now, Dhaub was wrestling for his life as Zaxuleg quickly overpowered him. The handle of his great hammer was now against his throat as the slaver tried to strangle him. Nug began to panic, fearing what would become of him if his ally lost. He pulled out another javelin and began to aim it at the both of them.

"Don't you dare throw that!" said Dhaub.

Nug looked conflicted as he tried to figure out if the pike could skewer both Uruk in one go.

"Don't you do it boy!" said the angry Warchief.

"I think that's enough," said Talion.

He ordered Nug to properly aid his ally. As Nug circled to the side of the hostage, Zax tossed Dhaub away from him and began to do battle with both Uruk-Hai. Nug used his javelin as a spear and jabbed at his foe while Zaxuleg blocked the other chieftain's blade with the broadside of his hammer. With a heavy swing, both Uruk were forced to retreat for a moment. Right then, Talion came launching down upon his foe. The dagger landed in the neck of Zax. Zax roared in pain and dropped his hammer. He grabbed hold of Talion as he burrowed the blade deeper and tossed him against the wall.

"Ranger!" said the enraged Warchief, "I should have known it was you! I'll kill you all right here."

Talion slid off the wall and returned to his feet. He charged forward towards the back of the Warchief's throne. He would use it as cover and a place to fire arrows from safety. Right then, he felt his foot cross a chord. It was a trap he would have seen had he not been in such a fierce duel. He felt a metal chain wrap around his leg. He was swiftly pulled up into the air, where he hung like a dead cow in a butcher's shop. It was a trap used by the Warchief to catch slaves that tried to backstab him. After all, no one else would ever dare walk behind him but those with ill intent.

Zaxuleg knocked both Warchiefs back and shouted, "You can stay there until I'm done with them."

Talion said, "No thanks."

He summoned his bow and fired a shot at the Warchief. Zaxuleg's jaw fell open as he saw the chain now dangling about empty. Talion quickly landed a knee in the chest plate of his foe and let the brunt of his sword come crashing down. It rammed hard into Zazuleg's head and clouded his vision. In that moment Talion, blasted him with the wraith's fire to further stun him.

"Now…" began Talion as his voice shifted to that of the Wraith's, "Fall."

The Warchief stopped his fighting. Talion lifted his arm and created a fist. The other two Warchiefs immediately halted and stood guard. The ranger circled the hulking form of the slaver as the Orc lowered his hammer.

"Now," asked Talion, "Tell me… where is the Queen?"

* * *

The wooden gates of Fort Morn were burned cleanly through by a ball of fire. Ursa watched as her troops broke what was left of it to pieces. Behind her, the smaller camps were in shambles. She had lit them on fire while Lithariel's hunters took the patrols out. Distracted by the town's alarm, the Uruk in Fort Morn were unready for her coming. She stretched out her hand and sent her battalions into the walls of the great fortress. They were to kill all Uruk in their path, save those who surrendered. Leading them, was a horseback charge led by Lithariel herself. As for the Warchief, she remained at the gate with a dozen armored guards. While she wished to coordinate the invasion, she could not risk an arrow ending her life and that of her child. Instead, she sent Kalug to lead the charge.

Battle erupted quickly as the confused Orcs in Morn were exterminated. Even more surprised were the slaves: the men, women, and children who were sure that none would come to rescue them, especially not Orc. Several hundred goblins were killed amidst the chaos of their fort being so suddenly breached. Even worse, their Warchiefs chose instantly to stand down and executed any which disobeyed. Soon after, the remaining Uruk in Morn surrendered and were gathered up by their Warchiefs to be branded.

* * *

Ursa sighed as she waited outside walls, her back and rump aching terribly. It was nearly six hours before a messenger came to her, inviting her in. She knew then that Talion had successfully secured the fort and no archers would threaten her.

Atop her horse, Ursa strode into the massive city. Inside, it reeked of blood, feces, and smoke. She put one of her dress's sleeves to her nose as she navigated through a trail of bodies. She felt her stomach turn nauseous from the sight of the bodies, but she steeled herself. Up ahead, she saw the center of the fort where slaves were lined up to be branded, inspected, or shipped off. Here she saw the four Warchiefs lined up, a sign that Talion had completed much of the branding. In the middle of the great Orc commanders, stood a man and two women. Ursa smiled as she realized it was her husband. As for the women, they were the Queen Marwen and her daughter.

"Warchief Ursa," said Queen Marwen, "It feels like it's been ages. So sorry your marriage celebration ended so soon."

Ursa looked at the Queen. She was dirty and her wrists were bleeding from her bonds. Despite this, she seemed as chipper as ever.

The lady Warchief bowed before the Queen of Núrn.

She asked, "How fair you?"

Marwen said, "I was fortunate… I suppose. The Tower held me in a horrendous dungeon where I was left to rot for many days. However, no great harm came to me save a need for water. I am fortunate you slew him as he promised to bring me back to his realm to suffer properly."

She added, "We are all fortunate to such heroes as you Talion and you Warchief Ursa. The world is a little safer without such a vile being as the Tower inflicting his will on the free people of Middle Earth."

Lithariel then said, "To you Talion, you have my eternal gratitude for saving my mother and to you Warchief Ursa… you have my trust. Not something I thought I would say to an Orc."

Ursa beamed. She smiled and engrained the sight of the three in her mind. They were alive, as was she. Although she had much to think about, the most present danger was now erased. While Núrn was not yet secure, she needed not fear so intensely. Tonight, she would sleep peacefully and Talion would be by her side.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : In the game's lore, Fort Morn connects Thaurband to Nargroth. This implies that Thaurband ships slaves up to Morn who in turn ships them to Nargroth. However, I wanted to avoid the difficulties Ursa and Talion would face by denying Thaurband's slave trade so early in the war. By writing it so Morn ships slaves downward to Thaurband, I could avoid such consequences.

"Nug" is probably the worst name I've ever written for an Orc. My only defense is that I really wanted chicken nuggets when I wrote this chapter.


	11. The Witch-Queen and the Setting of Sails

**Chapter Eleven: The Witch-Queen and the Setting of Sails**

In the center of Port Núrn, the Uruk were cleared out to make space for the slaves. Hundreds of the tribesmen and slaves from Gondor now gathered. Old men and women, malnourished children, widows, and broken warriors all stood together. Their heads were shaved, a gesture meant to break their identity as many in the tribes took pride in their hair. All appeared the same as they wore a set of dusty white rags. Their eyes, though alert, were worn down by their masters. As he looked upon them, Talion realized that even with the Tower gone, the cruelty that drove him was still alive. One didn't need dark illusions and torture machines to break a man's spirit.

Lithariel stood atop of a wooden deck that overlooked the center of commerce. Not long ago, it was here slaves were judged and handed out. Now it was a place of liberation.

Lithariel shouted at the top her lungs, "Your Queen Marwen is safe. Know this my brave tribes of Núrn. You too are safe. You need not fear the lash or the chain any longer. We will take you from this dreadful place."

"Why then," asked one of the older male slaves, "Do these Uruk obey you? What treachery is this?"

Lithariel said, "They do so because they fear the sorcerer."

"Sorcerer?" asked a woman, "She speaks of the Witch of Núrn."

"Indeed" said the young maiden, "The Uruk under her command obey her and many slaves she has set free."

"Lies!" said another slave, "They are evil, all of them!"

Ursa now stepped forward so that the slaves could see her more clearly. Those that suspected her now looked more closely at her features.

She said, "What then of a half-Orc?"

They murmured, but gave her no answer.

The Warchief said, "You need not trust me for I have no intention of holding you here. Return in peace to your people. If you find yourselves hungry or without shelter, there is work to be done in my ranks. You will be fed and watered. No lash or punishment will come to you I promise."

Despite the looks of repulsion they cast at her, Ursa continued to speak freely. "The Queen has taught me that you are a proud people. I am sure you wish dearly for the days where these lands were solely yours. Alas, time moves back for no one. We must learn to live here together in peace. Only together, man and Orc, can we defeat the forces of darkness. I hope that one day we will be truly joined hand in hand."

With that, Ursa bowed and left the deck.

A young girl now asked, "It is true? We can really go home?"

Lithariel said, "It is true. We can all go home. Will you follow me to the estate of the Queen? She waits eagerly for you there. Long has she missed her people."

The slaves' eyes at last began to be filled with life. The young girl quickly hopped up onto the deck and clung to Lithariel's leg. Soon many other slaves began to swarm about her. Others began to laugh and cheer. Those that were still new to their imprisonment broke down in tears. Those who had been slaves for many years could only stand in disbelief.

"It is a terrible thing," said Talion from a rooftop, "To strip a man of his dignity… of his freedom. Of all the deeds we have done, of all we have slain, this is the first time I have felt we made a difference. At last, the people of this land have a chance to heal."

He expected the wraith to criticize his sentiments, stating that there were thousands of more slaves in need of rescue, that this deed was small in the grand span of things. However, Celebrimbor said nothing.

"Do you intend to stay silent forever?" asked Talion.

"Listen well wraith," Talion continued, "Though I did not see it, I know what it is you saw. The Tower… he shows us our most precious memories and turns it to evil."

"There was no evil."

Talion was shocked to hear the cold voice of the Elf once more.

"It was a good dream," said Celebrimbor, "I wanted so desperately to believe it to be true. For all my warnings to you, it was I who so easily gave in to a lie. I… I wished to never wake up even if it was but a fantasy."

"And now?" asked Talion.

"My family is dead. I want only for Sauron and his ilk to pay for their crimes. I will not fade from this world until I destroy all that he holds dear."

Talion was relieved to hear his voice. He was more comforted by it than he had expected. They both understood that the Tower had left a scar that would never heal and it spurned them to action just as it tightened their bond.

* * *

Two weeks passed as the great fortress was renovated. With its high walls and view of the sea, Ursa and Talion both agreed to make it her castle. Right now, she was having its cages cleared out as well as the corpses, blood, and toxins that cursed it.

Ursa now made her home in Zaxuleg's massive estate, a building that could fit many Uruk. It was a small palace that's beauty and intricacy rivaled the grand fortress of Goth in Udun. However, Ursa knew its wealth was a harsh contrast to the poor conditions its builders lived in. The slave master accepted luxury as both Orc and slave suffered under his rule. She would see to it that it was home to both her officers and servants.

* * *

The Warchief sat on the end of a long marble table. On the other end of the dining table was her ranger. Before them was set a buffet of Caragorn steaks, fruit, bread, and wine. Placed before them but a moment ago, the meal still steamed, sending a savory fragrance throughout the room.

The Warchief asked, "Is this how husband and wife are to eat? You are so far away."

"Ioreth's father was a wealthy man. When he ate with his wife, they sat as such."

"Ah… I-I see," said Ursa, making her pouting plain to see.

"That may it be," said Talion as he stood up, "I never was well-liked with nobility nor the wealthy. In my house, a family sits close together."

"I much prefer so," said Ursa.

Talion sat himself to Ursa's right. She stared at him for a moment, taking in his features. Talion tried to hide his fluster. She looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.

She said, "I think you will like it. It is no dish from Gondor, but I prepared it to be less… strong in flavor than Udun dishes tend to be."

She said, "This is Caragorn. The meat is usually tough. However, my cook smoked it for a day and seasoned it with spices from here in Núrn."

"Ursa, are you sure about this?" asked Talion, "If it is like wolf, I must say it will taste quite rancid."

Ursa replied, "I do not know if Caragorn are a kind of wolf. Certainly, Warg are similar. As such, their taste is revolting, although Orc will eat that in a stew. As for the Caragorn, please find out for yourself."

She reached a claw out and tore a strip of the well-seasoned flesh from the large slab of steak. Ursa brought the meat up to Talion's lips and waited for entry. He laughed lightly and let her feed him a sample of the meal. He chewed on it for a minute and then swallowed.

He said, "It is surprisingly delicious. It has a poignant taste like that of a bear."

"If fed heavily on livestock, the Caragorn tastes horrible," she said, "So we feed it small rabbits and berries. Then it is boiled and smoked. We turn the best pieces into cuts such as this and the rest into sausage."

Talion said, "You have been busy with more than war strategy, so it would seem."

She giggled and replied, "Perhaps because of my blood, my palette is weaker than that of other Orc, as is my stomach. I have been trying to find ways to enjoy Mordor food all my life. Here in this land, the tribesmen have learned to feast upon the Caragorn that now swarm their land. I most prefer their wine, so thick with berries."

"I think it is good you eat as they do" he said, "You are feeding for two now."

Ursa's face suddenly showed worry. The question that haunted her now returned to her mind. She lost her appetite as she felt her heart begin to beat wildly.

She said, "My lord… do you think the baby will… never mind."

"Ursa, what troubles you?"

"A half-Orc has never given birth. I do not know what will happen. I do not know if my baby will be born alive. I fear that at any moment, it will die within me."

"Do not think of such things," said Talion, "You are stronger than you think. You were at war and yet our child still grows within you."

"Yes," she said, "I suppose that is true."

Ursa let out a light smile, but Talion did not think she was convinced. He wondered if Ursa had been holding in such fears since the day she had learned she was pregnant. It was not as if he never worried over it. Only, he feared the child was not the only one in danger. Childbirth, even for the healthiest of women, sometimes ended in tragedy for the child and its mother. Even so, he believed it would be okay. As for Ursa, Talion did not wish his wife to dwell on it. This was to be a time of happiness for her.

"It will be fine my love," spoke her husband.

"Forgive me," said the Warchief, "for dampening our spirits. Please... eat."

"You need not say so twice," said Talion, "I have not eaten a proper meal in days."

Ursa, in a faint voice, said, "My lord… I was wondering… how does your body… work? You eat, breathe, and drink yes?"

"Of course," he said, "I bleed just as you do."

"Then why does Celebrimbor call you a corpse? I know that necromancy was used return you to the living, but you seem as alive as any man I've known."

"That is…" said Talion, "a question I must carefully consider. Though I live a half-life, it does not always feel so. In this moment, I feel alive. It is only when I return from the dead that I am reminded how fragile my life is. The Tower said that the Wraith need only reach out and the connection will sever. I would return to the grave."

Instantly, he regretted telling her that. Ursa's face was filled with terror and worry.

She swiftly stated, "Celebrimbor would never do such a thing. You both rely on each other. Oh dear, I ruined the mood yet again. Now our food is turning cold."

"In that case, I think a glass of wine will do to lighten our moods." said Talion.

He grabbed hold of his gauntlet and guzzled down half of its contents.

"It's sweet," said Talion, "I'm used to the mead of my rangers. You will spoil me with such fine drink."

"That is my intent," she said, "I will spoil my lord in all things."

"And in return, what could I offer you?" he asked.

"Do not leave for your hunts until the late morning," she said with a blush, "Grace my bed tonight."

Talion said, "T-that was already my intention! I d-do not plan to neglect your… needs. Very well then, I shall spoil you tonight."

Ursa choked on her wine now. She said, "I-I… this is embarrassing even though no guards are beside us. I… I need more wine."

* * *

Dusk fell softly upon Núrn as a temporary sense of peace embellished it. That night, Talion did not hunt but lay beside his wife. They lounged in a massive bed in the old Warchief's spacious quarters, recently cleaned of his wretchedness and now home to Ursa's belongings. The ranger's hand pressed against her stomach, feeling the slightest bulge upon it. In a few months, her pregnancy would be more obvious. He marveled at how she carried such a thing within her. How he feared the dangers that lay ahead for the mother and child!

Ursa lay panting on the bed, her cheeks flush as she quivered for his touch. However, Talion found himself in shock as he stared at her right shoulder. The wound was sown with fresh stitches, a crust of blood and scab still upon it. Her arm was slightly red, although it had receded much since Lithariel had treated it. Now she had a doctor daily to attend to her. Talion found himself then turning to the eye patch upon her face and to the piercing upon her hand where the Tower's Uruk had pinned her to a tree with a knife. Then his eyes fell to her legs where light scars marred her. He felt sick to his stomach. All these wounds had been inflicted on her while she was under his care and the latest was by his own hand.

"My lord?" she asked, "What troubles you?"

She then understood why he looked so bothered and said, "It doesn't even hurt."

"I have failed to protect you. And now I am to go away? I am to leave you here with a host of Orc that could turn on you again at any moment?"

"I trust you Talion," she said, "Do not hurt yourself like this. You saved me in the arena and from the reach of the Hammer. These are scars of war, small prices to pay for surviving another day. I promise you they will be the last. With this power, I can protect myself. I can protect you and our child."

"You should not need to rely on the dark magic of the enemy."

"There is much we do not get to decide. In any case, please do not stare at them so intently or I will feel that is all you can see."

"I did not mean to do so," said the ranger, "These scars do not bother me in the least. Not as much as seeing you waltzing about in that coronation dress. I fear others will seek to steal you away from me, tempted by the Witch's beauty as I was."

She laughed at his words. After calming down, she looked up at Talion's unwavering gaze and her mouth parted slightly.

"You truly mean it? Don't you?"

"At last, you begin to believe me." said Talion.

"And to think that all this time, I have worried about you. I have seen how other women look upon you. I will not say any names. You are too strapping a man, too strong and soft spoken. I melt at your gaze, I dash to pieces at your touch. Yet you so fearlessly address other maidens. Albeit, I am not so jealous. It is a wicked thought, but I find pleasure in knowing you are mine alone. In knowing that you chose me."

"I hardly chose you Ursa," said Talion, "It was you who confessed to me and you who put me under a spell that I cannot break from… you draw me back to you again and again."

She traced her hands upon the hard muscles of his pecs while Talion's own arms stroked the curves of her wide hips. With his other hand, he took a lock of her black hair and kissed it. He felt Ursa squirm under him as she became excited. Her claws quickly reached out around his neck and pulled him in, wrapping her legs tightly around him. Their lips became locked for what felt like ages. It was as if they were sinking into one another, truly becoming one. Ursa felt her nightmares blur away and Talion felt truly alive for a moment. Conjoined, they continued through the night until they passed out in exhaustion, still embracing the other like lovers back in the cove.

* * *

The cold light of the moon was blasting in through the bedroom window, its gaze exposed the lovers to the world. Deep into the night, Talion found himself awakening from a noise beside him. The ranger turned to his left where Ursa was tossing in her sleep. She began to moan and mutter in anguish. Talion felt saddened as he had hoped she would sleep soundly, without such dark dreams on such tender a night as this. He could not bear to see her tormented so he put a hand upon her arm to give her strength. Ursa screamed and swiftly sat up. Her long black hair was in a torrent. Her eye, glowing like an ember, was ferocious with fear, like a cornered animal about to be slaughtered. Right then, Talion realized she was looking at him in utter fear. However, Ursa quickly blinked and steadied her breathing. He watched her face relax as she realized she had woken from a nightmare.

"Talion," she said, "please forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

"What haunts you Ursa?" he asked.

Ursa turned away and looked out the window at the full moon shining down upon them.

She said, "It was nothing. Only a dream."

With that, she turned over and pulled the covers over her to keep out the chill of night. Talion thought of embracing her from behind as they usually did. However, something kept him from doing so. In his heart, he knew what memories haunted her sleep.

 _A wife should not fear her husband._

Talion tried not to take it to heart or to feel hurt. It was not as if he never feared the darkness that had possessed her. It was not as if she actively felt fear around him. It was a quiet thing. It may have been with her since the day she met him. The ranger now felt as if he wanted to be sailing across the sea, to escape from there for just a little while.

* * *

For the next month, Ursa and Talion found themselves without a moment to rest. The three Warchiefs did not easily relinquish their power. One Warchief mounted a thousand Uruk and hammered at the walls of Fort Morn, seeking the head of Ursa the Cunning. Fortunately, she had the great gates rebuilt and reinforced before the invasion. Ursa, from the top of the wall, rained fire down onto the Orc army and his war machines. The humiliated Warchief retreated to his lair which Talion had occupied in his vacancy. His mind swiftly fell. With so many under their command, Ursa and Talion had little trouble invading the last remaining fortresses and taking the minds of the chieftains.

Amidst these battles, another great project was underway. Ursa ordered the sunken ships to be towed up, a feat that took hundreds of Orcs and miles of rope. She also ordered the construction of new warships, relying on the designs of the Tower's ships and the input of Núrnen's ship masters. To create these vessels, she stripped the nearby forest of its lumber, leaving it bare and ragged. This saddened the Witch as those woods had provided her with safety when the Tower hunted her. Under Marwen's suggestion, she brought seedlings to replace them, but it was not nearly enough. Rather, Ursa chose to focus on bringing in a workforce of a thousand Orcs and men, although they did not mingle as both were prone to quarrel and bloody contests. At last the ships were built and ready for the sea.

Before either of the lovers had known it, their month together had passed.

* * *

At sunrise, Talion and his wife stood atop the peer overlooking the coast. Below, five grand ships sat by the water's edge. Both rulers gazed down at their handiwork, with their fingers intertwined.

"Are you certain the watcher of the lake will not attack?" asked Ursa, her face filled with worry.

The Gravewalker answered, "It has not been seen in many years. Regardless, I must make this journey."

"I suppose so," she said, "You've done well in preparing the Orc to man the sails and oars."

"And you have done well," answered Talion, "in building such a sea-worthy fleet."

She sighed and said, "I do not know what I will do... separated from you for twelve days."

"You should feel relief that will return so late. If I return from the ivory tower, then should you be worried."

"It would be a bittersweet reunion my lord" she joked.

"Take care my love," said Talion, "Govern these lands well and await my return."

"I will watch for you. You need not worry about Núrn. These lands have become still. The Uruk are pacified as long as they have their Warchiefs. What worries me is that our union will not go unnoticed. Many Uruk are not branded. Word will reach Mordor."

"Do you think Sauron will send forces here?" asked Talion.

"In my heart, I believe the dark lord knows. I fear he is watching… waiting. For what, I do not know. For now, I believe his attention is elsewhere… perhaps to the crafting of his armies and the construction in Barad-dûr."

"He must be angered," said Talion, "at the destruction we lay on Udun and here in Núrn."

Ursa said, "Celebrimbor says Lord Sauron is weakened from the great war. We have further weakened him and delayed his return. Even so, I believe Mordor is strong enough to threaten Middle Earth. The Dark Lord will rebuild his armies and crown new servants. The day will come when he will challenge us. I only hope our power will be enough."

"As do I," said Talion, "For now, that power is enough to control this land. The Uruk would do well to fear the might of the Witch-queen."

"That is what my enemies call me, yes?" she asked, "A foolish title. The Witch-king of Angmar is Sauron's greatest servant. Before him, my powers are nothing."

"Well… you are a queen and a witch of sorts. The name is fitting."

Ursa said, "I do not think the Witch-king would agree. In any case, 'Warchief' is enough. It was my dream to be called so. Even now, it makes me happy. Queen of the Orcs? I cannot understand it. Not long ago a camp of Uruk was too much to manage."

She smiled at Talion and said, "I owe you."

"Ursa…" he replied, "I will miss you dearly."

He took her hands into his and gazed into her eyes. He felt his heart warm as he watched her blush upon their kiss. Flustered and shaken, she could say nothing further. It made Talion want to tease her, to take her into his arms forever. Instead, he put a hand to his sword and gave a small bow.

"I take my leave."

Ursa smiled as she watched him walk away and said, "Farewell my ranger."

As Talion swiftly disappeared down the flight of steps to the bottom of her estate, Ursa turned back to the ocean to think. She put a hand to her cheek and furrowed her brows.

 _Oh dear, I really will miss him. He speaks of how he will miss me, but I will surely miss him twofold. We were only just reunited and now I must wait for so long. Lord Talion… I love you. Though we have suffered and faltered, please know that these feelings are true._

* * *

"Uruk!" roared Talion.

He looked at the three Warchiefs and their host of captains and bodyguards. They led a great army of hundreds of Orcs. He would sail them across the sea to the fortress where darkness awaited them. The Tower and the Black Hand would not be alone. An army was needed and an army he had raised.

"To the ships" said Talion, "We sail to cursed lands where the Black Hand thinks himself safe from the fate that befell his brothers… unknowing that his doom is at hand. Ready your sword and shield for we sail now to war!"

The Uruk deafened the air with their mighty war cries and the beating of their fists upon their breasts. The ranger looked back to the north to those he left behind. He saw the Queen and her daughter standing there. He walked up the hillside to meet them.

Lithariel gave Talion a hug. She said, "This is not a journey you need to make alone. We can fight."

Talion said, "We have been over this. A far greater war is coming. When I return, your sword will be needed."

Marwen said, "The people of Núrn will be ready. Tell me though, is the Warchief not coming to see you off?"

Talion said, "We have said our goodbyes."

Lithariel said, "Then go. Go with the goodwill of the free people of Middle Earth."

Talion nodded. He turned away from them and returned to the shoreline where his ship was waiting for him. As soon as he boarded it, all five of the ships began to depart. Their colossal sails opened to let the wind lead them across the bay. The sea was calm, but in the direction which they sailed, all felt a sense of unease. It was said that an eternal storm swelled across the sea, a storm of red lightning and acidic rain. It was here Talion would make his war.

* * *

Ursa stood in the tower of Fort Morn. The Witch-queen gazed through the window out to the sea. She could faintly see the shapes of the ships leaving the harbor. Her ranger was leaving her for a time. At night, she would think of him as she charted the stars.

The chieftain put a hand to her stomach, thinking fondly of the small life that festered inside of her.

She said, "Your father will soon return my child. Fear not, for this darkness will not last. If need be, I will devour its makers in smoke and flame."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : The last few paragraphs are copied from the ending of _Ursa the Weakling_. However, I've made some slight changes for the sake of accuracy.


	12. The Black Hand and the Avatar

**Chapter Twelve: The Black Hand and the Avatar of Darkness**

The small goblin cowered over in fear. Having once served the Hammer, he knew well of the Black Captains' short tempers. Many Orcs had perished under their command, especially those whom brought them unwelcome news. However, the Black Captain he stood before seemed to be lost in thought.

A gentle voice at last answered, "I see. You may leave."

The small goblin swiftly bowed and frantically ran away in relief, returning down the long mess of stairs. The hooded figure turned to stare at the horizon, paying no more attention to his forces. As the sun set, the sea changed color to a deep bronze. It shimmered like a treasury of jewels. Its beauty was lost on the dark fortress that resided by the water. With his elegant armor and fine robes, the Black Captain too seemed out of place here.

"So," he began softly, "the Tower has fallen. An end to his affliction and that of others. His disease and madness is over. In this hope, the Ringmaker will surely come to destroy that which remains."

The Black Hand said, "So be it. My time here is fading. The hour draws near where all will be decided. Come now ranger to our fated reunion and let us dance once more."

On the highest spire of the fortress, the Black Hand waited in silence and patience. His eyes of gold remained fixed on the horizon.

* * *

The sea was still as Talion's fleet steered across it. His Uruk pulled on the oars without end and a fair wind guided them to their destination. To the ranger's relief, it appeared they would arrive without delay. In the journey, only one event ever worried Talion. It was when the sea began to stir and a deep roar pierced his ears. His men said it was the Watcher of the Lake, a monster that would rise from the depths when the lake was defiled. Fortunately, it did not take any of his ships, as it often did. "Perhaps", thought Talion, "it knows our path is a righteous one."

* * *

The day came when the black ships caught sight of the accursed shores. Unlike the cool, lush coasts of the Queen's lands, the other side of the lake was desolate. The trees had been torn out and used as fuel. The green of the ground down was dry and the soil dried and cracked. A thundercloud of smoke and darkness loomed up ahead, as flashes of red lightning fell upon it. Drawing closer, Talion could see the feint outline of the nameless fortress in Ered Glamhoth, as it was called in Black Speech, far off in the distance. It was avoided by the traders of Núrn and by the Orcs of Mordor. It was said to be a place of horror for the living and the dead alike. It was where goblins and enemies of Sauron were delivered to the Tower for punishment. If one escaped to the mountains, they would find the mountain chain no more appealing. They would be driven mad by the restless spirits of the dead that haunted them.

As Talion's flagship approached the shore, he said, "It is good these Orcs cannot flee or give into fear. Surely they would abandon this evil place."

The Wraith said, "This fortress must be turned to dust. It will strike a mighty blow against Mordor."

About midday, the fleet beached themselves on the water's edge. Already, enemy Orcs dashed away on Caragorn to warn their masters. Others remained and fired arrows upon Talion's forces. The ships quickly unloaded as sweeps and boarding ramps were dragged out. The Orc were neither subtle nor organized as they disembarked. They poured out like flies with only their Warchief keeping them in some form of a circle. Talion proudly walked out in front of his hordes of Orc. He looked up ahead to the home of the Black Hand and in that moment, hatred took his mind. Were he mortal, he would have trembled and felt fear, even with his seasoned nature as a ranger. However, that humanity had been stolen from him. For him, this was nothing but a grave for his foes.

"Forward!" shouted Talion and the Wraith as one, "Drive back these wolves!"

Talion's forces were now camped in front of the vast fortress. It eclipsed Fort Morn in scale, being more of a castle than anything. Talion worried that his plans would be offset by a siege. He had not the resources to do so. If so, he alone would be forced to infiltrate it and hunt down his prey. However, the Warchiefs that commanded the army of Ered Glamhoth were left to their own devices by their master. Ignorant of the ghost stories of the Gravewalker, they only felt outrage towards the traitorous Uruk that breached their shores. They opened their gates and poured out their entire army of a thousand.

"They outnumber us two to one," said the Wraith, "We must even these odds."

As Talion walked beside his comrade, he answered in turn, "What better than to steal their pride? Let us slay their great chieftains."

"Yes," said Celebrimbor, "They must be made to understand."

Talion smirked, his heart still coursing black with thoughts of revenge. Right now, all his mind was bent on it, forgetting that which he cherished as he fell into battle. As the armies entered firing range, Talion saw the three Warchiefs of the Tower standing before him proudly. They were mighty Orc who towered over the frail forms of their comrades. Each was dressed in blood-red armor and helms with the horns of rams and cattle. Their fangs jetted from their mouths and they salivated at the thought of consuming man flesh.

"They should have fled when they were freed from their master's curse," said the ranger, "Now they will share in his fate."

He put a hand to the stubble on his chin and thought about how to handle the battle ahead.

"I wonder," said Talion "If they would accept a duel. Surely they wouldn't be foolish enough."

The wraith replied, "A fine idea. These Uruk are not as seasoned as those that took Udun. They were chosen for their height and strength to guard the Tower's possessions. They will be eager to test themselves and abandon the art of war."

"Uruk!" shouted the ranger at the top of his lungs, "You are as nothing before me! Without effort, I have slain your great comrades in the north! Udun and Núrn… they fell like swine! So, to you will fall! Has anyone of you the nerve to face me in battle? If so, let him come forth now."

"Simpering, feeble worm!" said one of the Chiefs, "So eager to die, are you? Fine! Show him the power of the Tower's finest!"

"Then," said Talion, "Pit your Warchiefs and your greatest warriors against mine. Let us decide the battle here and now."

"His head is mine!" said another Warchief, "I'll take it with the first swipe of my sword."

"So predictable," crooned the Wraith.

In a moment, the Warchiefs dashed themselves upon one another. The air was filled with the echoes of hammer against helm, sword against armor, and the deep bellows of the Uruk. Talion buckled backwards as one of the Warchiefs locked blades and effortlessly pushed him backwards. Their strength was as overpowering as ever. Despite his own power, Talion realized that one wrong move would cost him dearly. If he failed, the Black Hand would wipe out his army and ships. The war would be lost.

Talion dashed forward now to the Warchief who pursued him. The Orc sent a heavy swing at Talion. The ranger knew the blade was too large to parry, so he sidestepped it and struck at his foe. He sent his sword into the armpit of the Warchief, bypassing his armor. The Uruk snarled and charged forward at Talion. As Talion fired an arrow into his back, another Warchief lunged at him. Talion knew he would die if he did move and so rolled to the side. The Warchief was right over him, ready to stab down into his stomach. In that moment, a hammer came crashing into his head, leaving a dent right through the top of his helmet. Zaxuleg bore his teeth as he continued to swing his hammer down into the brain of the Warchief until at last the beast fell over dead. Talion thought for a moment to thank him but found himself kneed in the face by the other Warchief. He tumbled backwards as the Warchief swung at him. Talion spun to the side and blocked the blade with the flat of his sword. The enemy Orc then let out war cry as it unleashed a flurry of swings on the ranger. Talion's sword was knocked about, but he masterfully managed to stop each of the swings. The Warchief let out a heavier swing in frustration. As the sword flew far past the ranger's head, Talion moved in as an opening presented itself.

Left unguarded, Talion quickly thrust his longsword forward, sliding it into the opening between the Orc's chest plate and chinstrap. The Warchief gurgled and coughed out blood as Talion's sword went through his throat and out the other side. Talion quickly pulled out his blade and hacked away at the Warchief's neck. He turned around to see his Warchiefs had decimated the others. However, Nug had fallen at some point. Talion now drew out a sword of fire and stabbed it up into the air.

"Witness now the power of the Gravewalker!" he said.

With his remaining Warchiefs, Talion rallied his forces. The enemy army was beginning to stir with fear seeing the commanders fall so quickly. Many were shifting around and their shield formations began to break. The ranger took note of this and ordered his Uruk to charge. The enemy began to back up so that they were against the wall of the fortress. The air was again deafened with war cries and the smashing of armored boots against the rocks as hundreds of Uruk charged the walls. Talion pulled out his bow and fired it into the masses. They coiled backwards as he cut apart their shield-bearers. With the opening made, his goblins began to push through the breach in the enemy's defenses. His Warchiefs grabbed hold of the enemy's pikes and tossed the goblins into the air with ease. Soon goblin archers on the backs of Warg began to circle Talion's forces, picking off the Orcs exposed in the back of the ranks. However, this did little to deter the momentum of their assault.

As the enemy became congested, Talion pulled back his light swordsmen and sent in the armored units. With great box shields in hand and spears the length of two men, they began to push forward. The Orcs began to jab at the pinned enemy army until another hundred had fallen. Talion soon began to fire his arrows into the stragglers. To the enemy, he was nothing but an apparition. He vanished and reappeared with a sword stabbing into a goblin's chest only to vanish again. In seconds, half a dozen were dead at his hands. For Talion, the battle seemed endless. He must have killed fifty, but saw no end to them. At last, he was forced to retreat and rest. Even his Warchiefs were forced to turn back so they could regain their strength. With the invaders stopping their attack, the enemy retreated inside their gate. At this point, only two hundred were left. As for Talion's army, he had lost at least a hundred and fifty.

* * *

With a siege out of the question, Talion scaled the heights of the front wall where he began to pick off archers. Many of his nimbler goblins followed after him as well, scaling the walls as if they were spiders. For the next several hours, Talion and his small squadron fired arrows down upon the Orcs behind the gate. Then as night fell, his Uruk retreated and returned to the ship to rest. Talion did the same, but around midnight, he returned to the hunt. He infiltrated the fortress's outer defenses and began to hunt down officers. The Uruk were stricken with fear as a ghostly whisper called them to death. It seemed to come from all directions. They were forced to put out their fires as they were prone to erupting into spark and flame.

When morning arrived, the Black Hand's army was worn out from little sleep. Meanwhile, Talion's forces were well-rested and hungry for more battle. With such an advantage, Talion and his goblins managed to open the gate around midday. The enemy Uruk then retreated deep into the structures and dungeons of the nameless fortress. Talion's forces massed and pursued them relentlessly. However, his forces became deathly afraid the deeper they chased them. Their surroundings were masked by a thick fog and their senses overloaded by the stench of blood and decaying corpses. Even worse were the aimless screams that deafened them. Around them, Orc and man alike were hung and gutted. Some were dried out as their blood was poured into a drainage system that fed into a pool of blood in the Tower's "garden", a place of horror none would dare describe. Other goblins died at the hands of deathtraps, drops where they plummeted into pikes and small machines of fire that went off as they touched tripwires. Worse were the Tower's headhunters. These were agile goblin assassins that would take the head of stray goblins and then scurry away into the darkness. They seemed impossible to defeat until Talion realized they were using a secret tunnel system in the ceilings of the fortress to move about. With his teleportation magic, he managed to pursue them and chase them off. All the while, the enemy goblins made last stands or surrendered. As night fell, the fortress was nearly taken. Talion had lost another eighty goblins, but his force was still strong. At last, Talion knew only one great foe remained. He found himself at the center of the fortress where a great tower overlooked all Ered Glamhoth. He knew here the Black Hand awaited him.

"Remain here," said Talion to his garrison of Uruk bodyguards. The rest he had sent back to the ships lest they fall into madness. Even more, he would have none spoil his revenge. Tonight, the last Black Captain would fall.

The ranger slowly strode up over the last few steps of a long stairway. Suddenly, he was hit by the winds that scoured the top of the tower. The location was no doubt meant for scouting. Here he could see his black ships parked several miles out in the distance. A ring of sword-like spires blocked the fullness of the view, another symbol of the Tower's preference for fear over perfect strategy. However, what truly interested Talion was the one whom faced him in the center of the rooftop. Talion felt his blood begin to boil and he spared not a second in unfurling his sword.

"At last," said Talion, "I have you. I hope you have made your peace with this world."

The Black Hand softly said, "There is none to make. There is nothing here to lose."

"We will see how collected you can remain when I slice the flesh from your bone. You will pay, you more than any before. You, necromancer, who performed the ritual. You who personally took the lives of my wife and son. Who murdered me. Who conspired for greatness. Oh, how you have failed. I have torn Mordor apart and thwarted all your master's plans. What say you to that, monster?"

"What would you have me say?" asked the Black Hand, "To deny it? To taunt you? To brag of my victories? There is no resentment to be had, no pleasure to relish in. There is only power and what must be done to achieve the new world."

"New world?" asked the Wraith, appearing now beside the ranger and revealing himself to the enemy.

"Celebrimbor," said the Black Hand, "I had wished to see you. You have grown strong in our absence, far stronger than any predicted. Even without the One Ring, you fight as if you long for its touch."

"Do not taunt with what you no longer possess. Your master failed to protect that which was most precious to him. Let him cower in his weakness, deprived of what was mine."

"Even now," said the Black Captain, "You mourn the loss of it. You seek to avenge your loved ones, but is not your sincerest desire to have your power returned to you?"

"Enough!" said Celebrimbor, "For one who believes himself humble, you have much to say."

"Indeed. This is the last time such words will be exchanged. Talion, what say you?"

"Tell me," said the Ranger, "Why? What did you hope to accomplish? Why my family? Why me?"

The Black Hand replied, "There are no great forgers in this age, their secrets lost forever. Even if Annatar the Deceiver returned, none could compare to you Celebrimbor. The Elven rings you forged were most excellent. Greatest of all was the One Ring you and my master created together. He seeks your skill in forging new rings of power."

He continued, "It was within myself the wraith was to rest, together we would do amazing things. The blood ritual, the incantations and the death of the family, would draw him out and fulfill the conditions to summon the dead. What better to call a restless, wandering spirit than a painful memory? What I did not expect was for him to latch onto a corpse and into that corpse, to breathe life…. A half-life but a life all the same."

"Then your arrogance," said Talion, "has cost you. You were foolish to summon one that bears so strong a grudge and foolish to use a trained ranger of Gondor as your sacrifice. It will cost you everything. You will pay for your evil, for the innocent blood you spilled. And for what? To simply gain more power? Is that all you Mordor-folk know? How to kill and take, all for the sake of greatness?"

"I agree… that power without an end is a petty thing," said the Black Hand, "Many Orc, and even the servants of the Dark Lord, cannot see past it. However, Lord Sauron's goals are not so simple."

"Spare me your speech," said Talion, "I care not to hear of your lofty ambitions. You speak as if you are better than your minions, but in the end, you only seek to enslave and destroy this world. You are as mindless as a tempest."

"I think you mistaken Talion. This world is already broken and dying. The grace of the Valar is fading. Animosity between the races, darkness and light always in conflict, and war without end now mark this age. Sauron would see this chaos end. Only under a perfect master can this world achieve balance. My master seeks to nurture this world, to preserve it. You look to Mordor as a symbol of his evil, but what land of fire can flourish? Has he raised Núrn? No, he protects it, far better than Gondor. If not for a plague, they would have ravished it long ago.""

Talion retorted, "He would see us all made a slave. He would corrupt this world just as he always has."

The Black Hand said, "Darkness is a part of this world, as is death. True evil is disorder and chaos. The Dark Lord merely does what must be done, what any would do if they were as mighty as he. Just as Celebrimbor would someday seek out, as is the duty of the strong. Do you see now?"

"I see that you are mad," stated Talion, "Unable to see past your own ambition. Blinded so that you cannot see your own evil. Even as thousands cry out in pain and death, you do not understand their suffering."

"I feared we would disagree," said the Black Hand, "Nevertheless, I believe the day will come when you will understand. If you continue down this path, you too shall become like us. Just as she will."

"Do not speak of her!"

"You love her, don't you?" asked the Black Hand, tilting his head. He ran his black glove across his cheek, pushing aside a long strand of hair.

He continued, "I must confess the Dark Lord has taken interest in her. Is it not strange that one so weak has not yet fallen swiftly to his will? Did you not question how she wields such sorcery without fail? Enemy or not, she has gained his favor."

Talion glared at him and shouted, "Do not say another word or I will have your head!"

"It is a pity you oppose him so. You too have favor. You would have made a fine Black Captain. No, together with the Ringmaker, you might have been far more than that. You, Talion, are his greatest foe. Such power is wasted on petty revenge. It is for that reason we regret you will fail, a conquest ultimately made in vain."

"Perhaps so," said Talion, "but you will die in vain as well, just as your brothers did, once again failing to defeat me."

"It may be so," said the Black Hand, "I do not know what will happen here. Come then ranger, let us dance… for the last age is upon us. Let us fight before the dawn of the world's ending."

In that moment, Talion saw past his hatred, if only for a second. When he looked at the Black Hand, he saw neither malice nor blood lust as with the other Black Captains. He saw sadness, though for what, he did not know. However, he could not forget the cruelty of what he had done that day, of what he would do to the free people of Middle Earth. In the end, they could not understand one another's suffering nor convictions.

The Black Hand pulled back his hood and out slipped his long locks of black hair. His ivory face was youthful, as beautiful as an Elf's. He looked up to the heavens and shut his eyes for a moment. His breathing became still and he reached down to his sword belt. He pulled out a long blade of the Black Númenóreans, sharp and elegant save for a cruel edge to lodge into its foes. At that moment, Talion aimed his own blade at his foe. Both swords were stretched out towards the other for the longest time. Then they took flight. Talion's sword slid off the edge of his foes as the Black Hand twisted it around. His blade flew out of Talion's sight and reappeared in his opposite hand. The ranger managed to barely avoid a strike that would have sliced off his fingers. The Black Hand spun around, weaving his sword elegantly. The blade hummed as it painted the air only to scream in pain as it collided with the flat of the ranger's own. It exploded into a sea of sparks as they crashed into one another and tore away. Again, the swords cut through the air with maneuvers too fast for most swordsmen to understand, no less evade.

Red lightning cracked all around them as the sun cast its final light on the world. Talion's blood lust had settled into a fury of tranquility as he sought his enemy's death. He launched forward a perfect strike at his enemy's head. The Black Hand effortlessly moved to the side and parried it. Again, he moved forward, surprising Talion with a low blow. The ranger hopped over the strike and angled his sword to the dark servant's side, hoping to hit the back of his chest armor. To his further bewilderment, the enemy parried it and reeled his blade into something of a cyclone. The ranger carefully studied each swing, winding backwards and blocking the final thrust that erupted as the dance ended.

"His swordplay," said the Wraith, "is like that of an Elf lord. You must be cautious."

Talion decided that swordsmanship alone would not work. He needed to use more creative tricks to slay this Black Captain.

The ranger quickly drew his blade low, sending it upwards with his strike. A blast of the wraith's magic launched out as Talion prepared to twist his sword downward. However, the Black Hand did not become caught in the blast, just as most Uruk did. He merely flicked his hand to the side and the power vanished. He then grabbed hold of Talion's wrist and moved beside him. For the ranger, there was no time to react as both his attacks had been countered in the same moment. The Black Hand quickly moved his blade to Talion's throat as he shifted beside him. The ranger managed to block it with his brace. The razor-sharp sword of his foe slashed through the weak metal of his vambrace, leaving a perfect cut into it. However, both Talion's arm and throat were unharmed. He twisted around and moved backwards. Celebrimbor drew out his bow and fired an arrow at his foe. The Black Hand twirled his sword about him, deflecting two shots. The third shot, however, did not reach his blade. Talion appeared to the Black Hand's right and swung downward at his foe. The Black Hand showed no shock at the sudden teleportation. He stabbed his sword downward into the ground beneath them. Talion's blade collided with the anchored sword, sending both weapons reeling outwards from the impact.

With the Wraith's powers having little effect, Talion decided to retreat for a moment to catch his breath. He summoned two great Orc warriors armed with claymores. Talion stepped back towards the stairs as they dashed ahead. The Black Captain swiftly sidestepped the strike of the first Orc, instantly severing open the back of his neck. As if in the same motion, the other Orc was cut in half at the waist. Talion knew he could call in the rest of his troops but it would only get in the way of his revenge. He took a deep breath as he readied himself. His enemy waited patiently as Talion strode forward once more.

Against such a skilled foe, the ranger could only attack more ferociously. He let loose all of his cold fury and training upon the servant of Sauron. The Black Hand's swordsmanship was superb, the fastest and most precise Talion had ever seen. It was beautiful, like a deadly dance. However, compared to facing dozens of trained Uruk, there was some comfort in that he could focus his attacks without distraction. His swordsmanship may have been cruder, but it was utterly efficient as well. He watched as his foe shifted his footing into proper stances and parried at the opportune moment. The Black Hand's shimmering hair veiled his features as he moved, but his golden eyes were always on the ranger. Talion did his best to ignore how like Ursa's they appeared. Instead, he thought about the fated day they met. How the Black Hand had so gently moved his sword against the throat of his wife and then his son. There was no vicious maneuver, it was as if he was caressing their flesh. Their blood had softly spilled out and their deaths were a quiet thing. With this image so vivid in his mind, he prepared his deathblow. As did his enemy. The Black Hand switched hands once again and swung down at Talion. Talion swung down over the other sword, sending both swords into the floor. The Black Captain now pulled his blade upwards, forcing Talion's sword back towards his shoulder. The dark servant spun around and blinded Talion with his cape, a deception that the ranger had not expected. Even so, Talion's mind quickly steeled itself. The Ranger could no longer see, but he was sure of where the final blow would come. As the veil of darkness was tossed aside, the silver edge of his enemy's weapon came towards his eye. The Ranger's own sword was already sent its way. He twisted his blade upon the edge of the other and danced around it. Their swords circled each other, slipping around the other's edge for what felt like an eternity as each tried to break away. However, Talion put all his strength into the end of the clash and send the other's sword to the side. He quickly leapt forward and stabbed the blade into the Black Hand's throat. With that, their battle was over.

The Black Hand put a hand to his wound. He looked at his glove now painted scarlet by his death.

In a weakening voice, he cried, "So it is finished. Then I will perform my final duty. Return to me Celebrimbor."

In that moment, Talion understood the danger he was in. A necromancer had now died and was using himself as a sacrifice in a blood ritual. The Wraith would be torn out and sealed with the Black Hand in death. All three would fall. Talion collapsed onto his knees as the phantom was viciously ripped out of him. He felt his entire body go cold in an instant. It felt harsher than it had when Saruman summoned the Wraith. Saruman's sorcery left Talion feeling merely weakened and slowly dying. Right now, he felt like he was back with his family, dying on that fated night. Indeed, he grabbed his throat as he felt the wound the Black Hand had inflicted so long ago opened up again. He felt his flesh turn cold and knew he had only a moment left.

"Talion!"

The voice of the Elf.

Talion looked up to see the Black Hand frozen before him as his eyes glowed white.

"I can hold him no longer," said Celebrimbor, "Strike him down before the blending is complete!"

Talion roared as he felt blood pour out of his throat. His hands shook as they reached for his sword. It was too far and he could find no strength in his legs. He was without bow, having relied solely on the Wraith for its existence. As he felt his heart failing, Talion remembered his last weapon. The old relic of his greatest failure, shattered by the Hammer. He reached into his belt and pulled out the broken shard of his son's sword. He clenched his teeth as he rallied all his remaining strength. The muscles in his arm bulged as he reeled it back. He fired the broken blade forward like a ballista. It spun only once as it straightened out and shot into the brain of his enemy. The Black Hand fell over dead and the Wraith severed their connection. The white phantom slipped out of him and darkness swept over the ranger.

 _Talion, my heart. We'll be together soon. Forever._

A familiar voice called him through the void, a single light in the darkness. She beckoned him home. So desperately did he want to heed her call. The Black Captains were slain and Sauron was crippled. Although Talion's plans had far spanned that, it was enough. In that moment, something called him back to the living. He felt a weight upon his finger as his ring anchored him to the world. There was a promise he had to keep, someone he could not abandon. Someone he could live for. No, two lives. With that, he remembered all. His revenge was not complete nor would he run. He could not die yet.

He found himself awake in a sea of fog. The world was as twilight. He knew then that it was the unseen world of the Wraith. He saw Celebrimbor looking at him, a sense of peace upon his face.

"You could have rest… gone to where they are. The hither world beckons to us."

Talion said, "We will not abandon the living nor our quest."

Celebrimbor said, "I tried fighting Sauron. It cannot be done. If we struggle against the Black Captains, what hope have we to slay him and his greatest servants? More power is needed."

"Agreed," said the ranger.

The Wraith stood beside his comrade, both looking to the horizon. Their silver-blue eyes conspired as they gazed far and beyond. Across the sea, far past Núrn lay Mount Doom and its lakes of fire. There lay the keep of Barad-dûr, home of the servant of Morgoth. They knew another war was needed, and another war would come for them regardless.

Together they said, "The time has come for a new ring."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** The Black Hand is said to represent Sauron's deception. However, what is the deception? In this story, he seems to believe his own words. Perhaps what he conceals is his true identity or the full extent of his plans.

I removed the Sauron battle for the sake of pacing. I'm not a fan of Talion being able to defeat such a form either.

I wish I had more time to develop the Black Hand, but I couldn't find any place to give him more lines. I tried to portray him as a tragic sort of villain, without the malice of his brothers. He doesn't revel in torture or death, but he doesn't seem to regret it either. I thought of giving him some black wings as a representation of Sauron being a fallen angel, but it disrupted the flow of their duel.


	13. The Mourning Dead and the Reunion

**Chapter Thirteen: The Mourning Dead and the Reunion on the Shore**

As the last glimpses of daylight vanished, Talion's eyes were to the ground before his feet, to the corpse that lay there. The Blackhand's eyes were shut and he looked at peace. His long hair draped about him like a whirlwind and veiled his forehead, obscuring the stab wound that ended his life. It was a beautiful death for one who had done so much evil. Right now, the ranger glimpsed one last time down at his foe. In that moment, a great red fire overtook the body and in that moment, not even ash was left in his wake. Now all that remained was the blade of Númenor which Talion would not dare touch.

He whispered to the Wraith, "He was… different. Was it deception, all that he said, or did he truly believe his deeds to be just?"

"I know not. None knew his origin. Some thought he was a black Númenorian of old, others said he was Sauron himself. It would seem he will take such secrets to his grave," said the Wraith.

"Sauron?" asked Talion, "How can that be?"

"I wish I knew," said Celebrimbor, "I had not believed such a rumor. Only now do I wonder."

The Wraith turned to Talion and said, "Let us leave this place."

As night fell upon them, the Uruk rowers were replaced by those more rested. They would work tirelessly through the night. In good moods from their victory, they rowed with passion, forgetting their fear of the beast that circled those waters.

* * *

Talion remained above deck on his flagship, standing at the bow and looking towards the sea. In his mind, he could already see Fort Morn. He smirked at his own anxiousness, knowing they would not be home for many days. Beside him, the Wraith was also present. Talion wondered where the Elf's thoughts were. As he stared upon him, a question appeared in his mind.

He asked aloud, "I thought you wished to destroy it? The nameless fortress."

The Wraith continued to look off into the distance as he replied, "I hoped it would be made of wood like the goblin fortresses, not constructed as Barad-dûr. Without a troll or war machine, how many seasons would pass until it was rended to pieces? Our Uruk would go mad long before then and you would starve."

"The goblins will not return here willingly," said the ranger, "but Sauron may seek to reclaim it."

"It is a battle for another day," said the Wraith, "We have done what we set out to do. Much of Núrn has been liberated because of us. Its northern shores are under our control. For now, let us rest and keep the peace in the queens' land."

"Rest?" asked Talion "It is not like you to be idle. You seemed so eager to forge the ring."

"I am… but something ails me. I must see to it first."

"Celebrimbor… I too ache. I cannot forgive myself for believing for a moment they were alive. I cannot put it out of my mind."

Tiredly, the Wraith spoke.

"Is it so obvious? I… I need time to mourn. Gazing into the relics was painful, but I endured. I thought I was strong, yet I was so easily shattered by the Tower. The centuries did not weaken my thirst for revenge, but it did much to quell my pain. In a moment, those centuries were gone. I was alive. I had a family again. No, it was like I never lost them. In truth, the folly was of my own making. I never mourned their passing. I never buried my family. Like yours, they are lost to me. I need silence… time to regain myself… if I am to forge a ring to challenge the Dark Lord, if I am to declare war, I must do this. And when I grieve no more, then I shall destroy Sauron."

"Very well," said Talion, "It will be done."

"Thank you…"

Talion had not expected such kindness from one who seemed so committed to war. There were no words of welcome he could offer in return. Both said nothing for the rest of the journey. Rather, Talion tried to distance the horrors of late by dreaming of Núrn. He thought of the sea foam upon the shore and the soft green grass he would lay upon. He thought that perhaps it would not be a bad thing to rest in Núrn, to protect and pacify it a little longer. Above all else, he wished to see the birth of his child.

* * *

A clear, blue sky unveiled itself to the peoples of Núrn. At a smaller war camp of an Orc captain, trouble was brewing. The force of a hundred stirred as that of an army half their size now swarmed the entrance. Ahead of them, was a figure clad in a cloak of blue. It was the Witch, her hood obscuring her features and keeping her head cool from the sun.

"So many armed Uruk-Hai," asked the female Warchief, "Are you planning a wild hunt?"

"Begone Witch," said a Uruk, one of the only in the camp to match the size of a man.

He continued, "Take your sorcery elsewhere."

"Captain Lurtz," said Ursa, letting her voice boom across the area, "I hoped we might speak. You declined my invitation."

"Of course I did. I ain't gonna go into your deathtrap of a fortress. Didn't when Zaxuleg was Warchief, won't do it now. So then, why don't you take your ugly face and this cowardly lot and get outta here."

She answered, "Rumor and whisper spread throughout Núrn. They say you intend to challenge me to a duel and take my place as Warchief. They say you are gathering stragglers for your cause."

"You just couldn't stay out of this half breed" he roared, "Fortunately, you were foolish enough come here with so few."

He swiftly pulled out a crossbow from his back, a venomous arrow already loaded into the launching mechanism.

Ursa said, "That's enough. We Uruk shouldn't fight amongst ourselves. I came here to ask for peace. Disband this rebellion and I will leave this place."

"And do what? You've stolen these lands from us. None have hope now to become Warchief. Don't think I'm the same. I won't cower like the rest of 'em. I know what you are. A traitor working with the Gravewalker. When I slay you, the Dark Lord will thank me for killing you."

"Who do you think gave these powers to me?" she asked, her eye shimmering like a furnace.

"Lies!" he said, "I'll put an arrow in your head you little traitor. Now die-Aaagh!"

The moment he aimed his bow at her, the Orc began to burn. Ursa then reached out and set ablaze the campsite. The Orcs began to shriek in fear as a wall of fire enclosed them. Their great leader screamed out in agony and wreathed about trying to put out the flames. However, his flesh quickly was consumed in the inferno and only a pile of smoking ash remained.

"Please mercy!" said another goblin.

"Haha!" said Flog, Ursa's lieutenant.

He continued, "We'll have no mercy for traitors! Your life ends here filth!"

Ursa put up her hand, silencing her party. She gently tugged on the reigns of her horse. Her black stallion moved forward so that she was in front of the quivering enemy army. Her eyes became soft now and the Uruk were disarmed by the change. With a warm smile, she pulled back her hood and looked down at the lot.

She said, "Fear not. I have no intention of punishing you. We will leave in peace. Should you seek my protection, I would gladly find a place for you in my army."

"We will serve!" said an Orc, many others agreeing and shaking their heads.

Another blurted out, "All will serve the Witch-Queen!"

"I see…" she said as she beamed, "I thank you."

* * *

As Ursa and a long row of Uruk returned to Fort Morn to rest, she saw a messenger running in from the coast. Her Uruk tensed up as it was not an Orc but a tribesman who served her.

The man, well out of breath, shouted to her, "Lady Ursa! There are ships on the horizon! Talion has returned."

Her face lit up with excitement and she quickly rode off from the proper course, leaving the Uruk in confusion. Behind her, her two bodyguards trailed closely. Ursa was not surprised that Talion was alive. If he had died, she would have known about it. However, the two weeks had seemed like months to her. Was it not understandable, given only a few months ago they were married?

The Warchief now arrived on the grey shore of the coastline. There she saw the row of black sails pulling into the bay. She smiled as she awaited his return, not caring that it would take an hour for such a moment. However, as she thought of Talion, she grimaced.

 _When he learns I was quelling a rebellion, he'll surely scold me._

Her only excuse would be that it was of little danger to her and she had worn light, leather armor under her robes as a precaution. She also didn't want to speak about her troubles in the last two weeks. Many of the Orc had been unruly and fights had broken out with the tribesmen. Against such tension, Ursa had failed to impress as both parties found her untrustworthy and her speeches lackluster. Furthermore, she had been unable to properly manage Fort Morn's shipping as well, and so the supplies meant for Mordor were horribly delayed. In this matter, she feared Celebrimbor's reproach more than her own husband's. The Elf had been training her to manage their export and expected her to oversee it properly in his absence.

* * *

Down the ramp came the ranger. His boots sunk into the wet sand of the shore. As a wind from the east hit him, he pulled aside his long brown blocks so he could look upon the lady at the water's edge. The ranger now rushed forward as if he hadn't seen her in ages. Ursa became flustered and stunned as he took her into his arms. Without effort, she was lifted off her feet so that she found herself gazing down into his loving eyes. He held her above him for a moment, letting her float in the strength of his arms.

With warmth in his voice, he said to her, "I'm home."

The ranger left the disembarking of the ships to the Warchiefs. He wanted to return to Fort Morn as soon possible to eat a hot meal and rest. On their journey back, Talion told Ursa all about what had happened. He spoke of how few Uruk he had lost, the death of one of his Warchiefs, the duel with the Black Captain, and the Black Hand's words to him. Talion noted that Ursa did not seem troubled about Sauron's knowledge of her and showed the most interest in hearing about the crafting of a new ring, expressing both interest and worry. She also showed pleasure and approval when Talion stated he intended to watch over Núrn until the child was born.

Soon enough, they entered Ursa's throne room. Talion smiled as an ornate wooden chair had been placed beside her own. Zaxuleg's massive throne had also been torn out while Talion was away. The reason being that when Ursa sat in it, she was utterly dwarfed by it and found her head could barely come over the armrests. Now a silver chair with pearls and diamonds was in its place. Great spires like the horns of a crown stretched out from the top.

"You've returned my queen," said a gravelly voice, "Ah… as has yer husband."

Talion blinked as he saw a bluish goblin approach them, dressed in a set of furs and dark, brown robes. The goblin shrieked lightly and bowed his head as the ranger glared at him. In truth, Talion was trying to recall where he had seen the Orc before. A last, he realized it was the Orc that approached Ursa following the Tower's defeat.

"This is Rag'luf," said his wife, "One of my servants."

"The Warchief was gracious. Gave me a life of peace."

Talion asked, "An Uruk not fond of battle. Now I have seen everything."

"What Uruk would admit it to their kin?" asked Ursa, "There may be others like him, forced to hide it lest they be seen as weak."

As the Orc left her sight, she looked solemnly at the two men.

"I request," began Ursa, "that he not be branded. I know it is a necessity for war, but he has shown himself to be loyal."

"I do not think sparing an Uruk or two will be of much harm," said Talion.

Celebrimbor said, "Do as you like. You are Queen now. I will only object when your plans would endanger us."

"Thank you, my lords," she said, "It means much to me."

Ursa said, "Now… you must be hungry. I have prepared dinner for the two of us. You will eat, won't you?"

Talion was slightly exacerbated by this. Her tone was a bit forceful. He had never heard Ursa be forceful with him as she seemed happy to submit and avoid disagreement if possible. However, his wife would not take no for an answer, at least for today. He could understand her desperation and anticipation.

"Who am I to deny the Queen?" he joked.

The sun began to set as they ate their dinner together. Talion and Ursa spoke no more about strategy or business, but only about the food and the baby. After dinner, she explained about the events in Núrn. As she feared, Talion scolded her for being reckless and Celebrimbor reprimanded her for slowing down Mordor's traffic. Ursa pouted and tried to hold back tears.

* * *

Soon night came over them and all was still in the great keep. Ursa lay asleep in her chamber. Her breathing was soft as she pressed herself against her lover. However, Talion soon stirred as he heard her peaceful sleep suddenly turn to madness. She was tossing about about again. He wondered if it were another nightmare about Belos' dungeon or perhaps she dreamt about someone she loved hurting her.

* * *

When Ursa awoke, she let out a groan of satisfaction as she stretched. As there was no light, she knew it was a bit before dawn. Even so, she felt rested. She hoped to reach out and feel the naked touch of her lover. However, she found Talion had vanished. She looked about the room for him, but found no one. She let out a sigh of disappointment and dressed herself. She wondered if he were wandering about the fortress or had left for a long hunt. She sincerely hoped it were not the latter. Ursa slipped on her favorite shoulder-less dress and began to explore the walls of the fort.

After searching for half an hour, Ursa could think of only one last place to look. It was the place she used to hide. There she found him sitting in her astronomy tower. He lay huddled on the ground; his breathing was still. Ursa froze as her eyes became sad.

 _Why are you here Talion? Is it something I have done?_

Suddenly, he began to stir. He saw Ursa and immediately began to move about, attempting to look lively.

"I must have fallen back asleep," he said, "I apologize I left to… to look at the sunrise."

"The sun only now appears my lord," said Ursa, "Please do not hide the truth from me. How long have you been out here?"

She then asked, "Did my nightmares keep you up?"

"No," he said, "You are no bother. Why do you doubt me? It is as I said. I merely came to see the sunrise. You know how I am. I am a man of the wilderness, restless by nature."

"Is that so?" she asked, "Lord Celebrimbor, is that true?"

The Wraith materialized and replied, "He is your husband, not mine."

The phantom then shook his head and vanished from their sight.

Talion groaned and asked, "Do not involve him. Ursa, why do you question me so? Leave it be."

"You feel far off…" she said, "As if you want me to leave. You seem like you did when you…"

She became silent and her lips tightened. Talion gazed up at her and guessed at her words.

"Speak your piece Ursa"

"When you parted ways with me after you saw into my memories. I… I understand now. You think you're hurting me, don't you? Even though I said that wasn't true."

"You can say whatever you wish," growled Talion, "It does not make it true."

She noticed he was becoming frustrated with her and she began to look away, feeling unusually nervous.

"I do not mean to anger you my love," she said, "I only wish to you to know that what you suspect is not true."

Talion said back, in a shaky tone, "You speak of honesty, but you hide the truth of your heart. The truth is… the truth is you fear me. I see it. Even now, you recoil as I raise my voice. At night, you awaken from dark dreams… You fear your husband and you are right to. I have hurt you again and again. I don't know how to make this right. How can I take back all the pain I have caused you and mend that which was broken?"

She saw that Talion's frustration had turned from her to himself. His eyes now became red as a tear rolled down his cheek. He was clenching his fists as he silently cursed himself again and again. His breathing became hard as she knew he was holding back a great deal. She wondered how many months he had harbored such thoughts.

"Talion…" she said, "I love you."

"It is not your love I question," he said, "Tell me Ursa… And do not lie to me for I will know. Do you trust me?"

"I do," she said.

He shut his eyes.

He said, "Ursa… Ursa, are you afraid of me?"

She said nothing for a moment.

"Only a little," she began, "But my lord, I-"

"I knew it," he said, "The reason you cannot sleep softly when I am beside you. The reason you fear to be honest with me."

"That's not true," she said, "I do not fear you as you think I do. It painful memories I fear. Memories of when you did not know me and of a time when you were not yourself. I do not hold them against you. I do not believe you would ever seek to hurt me. I feel only adoration for you. I feel safe when I am in your arms at night. Please believe me when I say this!"

As she pleaded with him, Talion did not seem moved nor did he seem to believe her in the slightest. She knew then that he was falling apart before her. She began to sob as she spoke, fearing she was about to lose him again. He would run from her and never come back. Her fear would drive him away. He would abandon her like he had before. Like everyone else did. Her mother. Her tribe. Her friends in Gondor.

"Please don't leave me Talion," she said, "I… I don't want to be alone. I feel so lost when you are gone. I'm always scared I will wake up and you won't be there. That I will awake one day and find it was all a dream. I'll learn I was never Warchief. I was never here. I never met the man of my dreams. I cannot smile if I am not with you. You are my light in this world, my saving grace. You rescued me from death time and time again. You granted my two wishes… to be Warchief and to find a man who would love one as hideous as me. Thank you. This fear is a small thing, I promise you. In time, it will fade. I beg you… believe me when I say that it means nothing compared to the love I feel for you. I will gladly suffer through the night if it means I am by your side."

Ursa wiped aside her tears and said, "Please do not suffer for my sake nor feel alone. I wish you only happiness. Won't you return to me?"

"Ursa…" he blubbered. His head sunk into her chest and she cradled him there. Ursa smiled down on her husband as he cried softly against her. She stroked the back of his head, enjoying the softness of his hair and the musky smell of leaves and dirt upon it.

"Forgive me," he said, "for everything."

"And will you forgive me," she asked, "for hiding the truth? I thought I was protecting you when I was only driving you away. From now on, we must be honest."

"So we shall be," he said, "After all, that is what it means to be husband and wife. To be one flesh."

As she gently rubbed his head, Talion spoke once more.

"Ursa…."

"Yes?"

"I would never leave you. Please do not worry."

"Yes, my love" she whispered happily.

Talon's eyes soon became still and his breathing lost its edge. Ursa continued to smile lovingly down at him as he fell asleep in her arms. It was an exciting change of pace. She felt that for once she could make him feel safe just as he had for her. As her back began to ache, she pulled him back into her bosom as she lay against the stone wall of the tower's sides. Talion stirred a bit but returned to sleep. It was the deepest he had slept in months.

"Such long eyelashes," she said with a giggle as she admired his handsome features up close.

"Sleep well my love," she crooned at him before falling back to sleep herself.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** :The chapters about Ursa and Talion's relationship are always my favorite to write.


	14. Final Chapter: The Coming of Night

**Chapter Fourteen: The Queen's Sacrifice and the Coming of Night**

Deep into the land of Núrn, the soil and stone no longer formed into hills or mountains, but formed into tables, great tables of stone stacked upon one another. A series of cliffs falling upon one another, each topped by a layer of bright grass and white blossoms. Though far from the sea, the small rivers and streams that flowed from the great lake nurtured this place. Here, the land was virtually untouched. Neither Orcs nor tribesmen nor the ancient Gondorians had settled on such patches of land. However, today the ranger and an ally tread on such virgin soil. They had need to as a frightful beast had beset it.

A reverberating roar echoed through the canyons, startling the rabbits and deer that were nearby. The ground shook as if Mount Doom itself were erupting. The culprit was a Graug, an ancient beast who no beast master could tame. It stood upright like a troll, but it towered well over the creatures. With its razor-sharp claws and powerful jaws, there were no natural predators for the beast to fear. Even the packs of Caragor avoided it, unable to escape its grasp and bite through its thick hide.

Unfortunately for the people of Núrn, the beast was on the move, far from the Mordor desert that was its home. It searched now for a new source of food, having driven out all the game in the valley. Talion would not risk it entering the farmlands of the north.

Right now, the mighty Graug crashed into a cliff. Its thick claws reached up and tore out great chunks of land. Talion fell backwards, his feet quickly reeling him away as it snapped its fangs at them, hoping to cripple its prey. The ranger speedily regained his footing and retreated to where his ally was. He now stood beside a man of half his stature but whom was every bit as muscular. While Talion exposed one arm, the short fellow proudly showed both of his tattooed biceps, wearing not much but leather belts for armor. Though he was a dwarf, his features were fairer than most and he had a short well-kempt beard. This was Torvin, a comrade who had aided Talion in the past in navigating Núrn's secret passageways and teaching him how to slay Caragor with ease.

"Cap'n!" yelled the dwarf, "Watch out! I think he likes you!"

"I'm flattered" said the ranger in a dry tone.

He fired off another arrow, one wreathed in silver flame, which bounced off the armor on its face. An inch off its mark, it had failed to pierce its eyes. The beast hissed and stumbled several steps back. Talion's own eyes widened in surprise as he saw the beast was scraping at the broken stones at the bottom of the cliffside. Without warning, it flung its arm forward, sending out several stones the size of the dwarf. The ranger rolled to the side. He felt pebbles cut across his skin like the graze of arrows. Now the Graug let out another roar and rammed its claws in front of the ranger. Talion charged forward and began to slash at its fingers. He was able to dig out blood and tender flesh from the side of its fingers, but it did little. Right then, Torvin charged forward. He flung one of his axes at the snapping jaws of the monster. The weapon spun in the air and became lodged into the Graug's eye. It bellowed and fell backwards. The beast scratched at the weapon until it dug it out. Blood now spurted out of its wound.

"A fine shot" said the Wraith, although Torvin could not hear him.

The beast suddenly charged forward again. Filled with rage, it tried to kill them both in one shot. Torvin dashed to the side and was knocked off the cliff. As for Talion, he fired an arrow upwards behind him to another ledge. The cliff he had stood upon just a moment ago vanished into an explosion of dust and rubble. The beast gnawed at the ground it had torn open. It began to sniff around until it realized the ranger was now above it.

Celebrimbor said, "We tamed Caragor, did we not?"

"Indeed," answered the ranger, "We did. This beast may be great but I wager its mind is weak."

The Wraith declared, "We must slow down its movements if we are too brand it."

"Torvin, put that chain of yours to use!"

Torvin pulled himself to his feet. He became silent as he realized the Graug was standing right before him, distracted by the human in front of it. He reached for his axe and began to slowly walk backwards. Right then, he saw the ranger leap off the clip. Torvin could only gape in disbelief as he saw Talion land atop its head. The ranger aimed for the eye the dwarf had blinded. The beast scratched at its back and toppled backwards, trying to knock him off. The ranger pulled out his dagger and ran it between its armor plates. With his other hand, he reached out and the Wraith began to brand the beast. As the monster swayed, it proved no easy task. Talion was knocked about and nearly lost his footing. The branding was interrupted as its claws threatened to disembowel him.

"Torvin, put that chain of yours to use!" shouted the ranger.

Torvin took his axe and dug it into the back of the beast's leg. He kicked off of the axe and grabbed hold of one of the horns on its arm. He now unwound a long chain and tied it around the beast. He tossed the chain around its neck and pulled it down. As he slid off, he tied it around both its legs. The beast tried to walk forward but fumbled onto its knees. It swung hard to the left. The dwarf was sent back into the air. He was fortunate he was hit with the front of its hand rather than its claws, all of which were the length of a broadsword. As it began to lose movement, the Wraith tore hard at its mind and completed the branding. The beast suddenly became still.

The Wraith said, "It will not follow any sophisticated order, but it may prove useful. Should a troll be loosed upon us or another Graug come from the mountains, we need only unleash this devilry upon it."

Talion said, "Now we have no need for a horse."

Celebrimbor quickly replied, "I will not ride on something this foul and clumsy."

"Oh, come now," said the ranger with a smirk, "it would look most intimidating to our foes."

"This joke of yours has gone far enough"

"Who says I'm joking?" replied Talion.

Right then, Torvin began to jump about and cheer. He shouted, "Whoo! By my beard, how did you tame it Cap'n? It's unheard of."

Talion said, "As I told you, I call upon an ancient spirit."

"Well," said Torvin, "We should bring this monster with us on our next hunt."

"Where to?"

"Into the cavern I spoke of. To slay the great bull of a Graug that makes it home there. If only my brother could see this."

"I will help you kill the monster, just as I promised," said Talion, "However, it will have to wait. My wife is soon giving birth and I should be by her side."

"Is it that time already?" asked the dwarf, "It seems like you were married but a day ago."

Talion answered, "I agree. Another year with her has passed me by in an instant."

"Well," said Torvin, "Go to you love. You know where to find me. Once she's tossed 'em out, I'll have to go see the pup for myself."

"I'm sure Ursa would be happy to see you again. Farewell dwarf. I take my leave."

* * *

The Warchief wiped a cold rag across her forehead, removing the beads of sweat that clung there. She let out a sigh as she placed it back by her side and lay her head down on her pillow. Right now, she was feeling deathly unwell. She could no longer sleep knowing the baby was due at any moment. She felt the contractions within her quicken in repetition. Lithariel and the other maidens had warned her that it was a sign that the baby would soon be born. However, Ursa could find only a hollow excitement in it. It was more of a need at this point than an event of celebration. For a time, she had been happy as she felt her child kick and move about. However, in the last few days it had become still. The child had first moved three times a day, then twice, and now it had not yet stirred. The maidens assured her that all babies were different and there was no need for concern. However, Ursa could not believe them. She had seen babies of sickly Orc mothers born. She watched the mothers grieve as their child did not stir nor breathe. She herself was never meant to give birth.

"Please…" she whispered, "Don't take my baby from me."

She could not move past it. Already, she was a mother and the fate of her child was all she could think of. No longer could Ursa strategize or even think of leaving the castle on an errand. Many months ago, the child first moved. From that moment on, she celebrated its life and swore to protect it. She cursed herself for endangering herself so much in the local disputes. From then on, the Witch locked herself in her fortress, sending her minions to do her bidding. Now in the darkness of her own lair, she decayed and fell into despair.

After her mind ran ragged, Ursa felt herself beginning to succumb to sleep. She continued to sit upright, laying against the pillows stacked on her bed's headboard. Her hands remained clutched onto her stomach, her stomach now full and weighing her down. Her back ached and her body was tender all over. She felt herself beginning to sweat again and her stomach felt uneasy as always. Her only relief was that she had not caught fever in her weakened state.

Ursa tried to control her breathing, letting out a puff of air. She felt her nerves calm down as she steadied herself. She reminded herself she needed to become strong for her baby, but it did little to convince her. The weight of her past was crushing her. In her mind, she saw her mother cursing her. She wanted to raise her child differently, to turn her mother's words into hollow lies. For now, they were like hot pokers in her mind. Those memories served as a testament of her fragility, weakness, and imperfection. What hurt most was remembering her mother's prophecy that her daughter was doomed in all things. She feared the sins of the mother would pass to her offspring.

As she tortured herself yet again, Ursa was taken by surprise as she felt a change in her body. In that moment, she felt a damp cold upon her legs. She shifted about her robes and realized her water had broken. Her heart began to pound madly.

"Rag'luf!" she shouted, her voice fierce and on edge.

The shrunken Orc bumbled inside, giving her a quick bow and then looking upon her.

He asked, "What is it my Queen?"

"I am about to give birth."

"Oh no! I-I mean… that's wonderful!"

Ursa commanded, "I need you to do much in little time. Send a guard to wait for Talion at the edge of the fortress. Send a messenger for the Queen, asking for Lithariel. As for myself, bring me the midwives."

"Very well m'lady!" he said, his voice cracking from fear.

 _Talion…_

She wanted him near now, but this event was beyond him. What mattered right now was that she was strong and ready to endure one of the most painful experiences of her life. Here all would be decided. She knew the risks. Even if the child lived, she herself might not survive it. In her memories, she had seen many goblin mothers bleed out or take fever, others screaming in pain as their child was born in the wrong direction. Right now, she did not fear death for her own sake, but to deprive a child of its mother was unacceptable. However, these things were of little concern compared to her child's life.

"I shall do my duty until the very end," said Ursa, "I will bear this child here and now."

* * *

Talion strode back to Fort Morn with a freshly killed deer hanging on the back of his horse. He would have Ursa's chief turn it into a hearty stew for her. While he intended to return sooner, he veered off course to catch the stag in hopes the meal would distract Ursa as she waited in her bedroom. Outside the fortress, where goblin patrols made their camps, Talion saw a single Orc standing in the center of the road. Immediately, he charged forward towards the goblin.

"What news?" asked the ranger frantically.

"She is in bed… soon to give birth," answered the Uruk.

Talion wasted no time, but bolted up to the main gates. He swung open the grand doors and entered the throne room. The guards tugged on their weapons instinctively, but he paid them no attention. The ranger ran through the endless hall that led to her quarters. In his mind, he too was afraid. What he wanted most was to be there when the child was born and to know of Ursa's condition.

As he reached the back of the estate, he found himself facing her bedroom door. Standing there was Lithariel, leaning back as she was taken by surprise by his sudden appearance. Through the door, Talion could Ursa's cries.

"Talion… it is good you are here."

"How is she?"

"It was about eight hours ago her water spilled," said the war maiden.

"How is my wife? Is she well?"

Lithariel said, "She is tired… but she presses on through the pain."

Talion gulped.

"Lithariel, will Ursa survive?"

The woman grimaced and said, "I do not know. She does not seem well. It is too much for her body. If she catches fever, we may lose her. In truth, we will not know for sure until after the baby is born. If she does not stop bleeding…"

"I see… can I see her?"

"For a moment, but a moment only."

Into her room, he went. Inside, Ursa was wailing. The sudden eruption of noise overwhelmed him. Her face was covered in sweat and her hair stuck to her skin. A blanket was upon her. Four maidens were in the room. One was setting up a tub of water boiled in the kitchen below. Another was preparing her a fresh cloth while the other two ministered to her.

"You should not be here," said a woman, "it is unsightly to- "

Ursa grit her teeth and said, "I would see him."

She began to pant, but returned to clenching her teeth as another spike of pain hit her. Talion's face was no longer brave, but full of concern. He quickly ran up to her side and sat beside her on the bed. Ursa was still without breath. Talion put a hand to her cheek, feeling the sweat that continued to pour down. He thought she felt colder than usual and his heart left him.

"Talion…" she said his name without strength as her voice quivered. He felt her fighting. Her eyes with filled with determination like he had never seen from her before, a harsh contrast to how she looked.

She hissed, "Promise me the child will live."

The ranger felt his eyes beginning to well up. He felt himself choking. It was all falling apart.

He said, "I…I promise."

"Promise me," she said, "You will be a good father. Though you are busy, our child needs love."

Her hand slipped around his. He marveled how small it was, as if he had never noticed before. As pain overcame her and she let out a moan of pain, she squeezed him with all the strength left in her body. Her yellow eye was fixed on his as she waited for his answer. Talion could only stare at her gaze in return. He could not say the fear that he felt in his heart. He wanted so badly to pull her out of this fate. It was too cruel for it to end this way when their life was only just beginning.

"I promise you… our child will grow up strong and well-loved."

Ursa did not smile. Her face was still full of fury and desperation, as if she were in a pit with wolves upon her, fighting for her very life.

She said, "And I promise you… my love…. I will not give up hope."

"Nor will I Ursa," he said.

"You must go now," said one of the maids.

Ursa nodded and Talion knew it was time to leave. He did not turn around, but slowly strode backwards. As he left, his eyes did not break from the image of his wife in toil. He did not want this moment to end. He feared that if he left that room, it would be the last he would see of her. Though she fought, Ursa was fading from this world as she fought to bring another into it. In that moment, Lithariel shut the door in front of him and he lost sight of his beloved. He slid against the wall and sunk onto the ground. In his mind, the ranger remembered everything. All else he cared for disappeared in that moment. Her name alone drove him into despair.

 _Ursa…_

He remembered the little Orc begging for his hand in marriage, blushing as he called her "fair".

 _Ursa!_

He saw her crowned Warchief, in a grand coronation in Goth. She looked like a queen.

 _Ursa!_

She smiled through the tears as he put a ring upon her finger. A promise to face the trials of the world together.

 _Ursa…._

Her name tormented him. It was a pain no tool of the enemy could hope to achieve. It stole the world from him.

Talion's hands dug into his hair as he waited through that dreadful several hours. His fear for his wife and his child were as one. The Wraith said nothing to console him, as he could not make any promise. Right now, they could only leave Ursa to her fate.

* * *

"Push!" shouted one of the maids.

Ursa screamed in agony as she gripped onto her blankets. Her face was stained with tears and her body was hot with fever. She panted harder than ever. Her eye was bloodshot, but her gaze remained alive. She bore her fangs against the world that had cursed her. She would fight it until the bitter end.

"Again! You must push!" said Lithariel.

"Aaaargh!" cried out the Queen as her strength began to leave her, as her body shattered. Her claws tore apart the bed, ripping out feathers from her pillows and slashing open the sheets.

She felt it about to end. She would at last have her answer. Her blood ran across the sheets as she fought into the night. As her husband fell to pieces amidst the storm. As Lithariel tried to break her fever. And at last, the endless night came to an end.

Ursa felt her strength now gone from her. As the pain receded, she felt her eyes beginning to close. She fought it, but to no avail. Right then, her hand grabbed onto the wrist of one of the maidens as she changed her cloth.

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Tell me… is my child alive?"

It was Lithariel who stepped forward now.

She said, "Your child is alive and strong."

"I see… I'm so glad."

...

...

...

And Ursa was still.

* * *

"Talion…"

The voice of Lithariel.

The ranger jumped to his feet, his eyes heavily lidded and his hair drenched with sweat. He looked at the princess, his eyes clinging on her every word.

"Your child is born."

 _My child?_

In his despair, had he not heard its cries? The ranger bolted back into the bedroom, startling all the nurses. There was the infant, being washed by the women of the blood and slime that coated it. It was crying, wailing like Dirhael when he first saw him. Talion's relief was only for a moment as he looked to his wife. As his heart broke. Laying silently on the bed, was Ursa, her head sunk to the side. Talion gulped down as he was overcome with fear and grief.

Lithariel grabbed hold of the baby and wrapped him in a set of fine cloth. She walked up to the ranger and handed him the infant. Talion's hands fell around the child as he peered down in disbelief. He felt warm holding the baby in his arms. However, happiness was a fleeting thing.

"What of Ursa?"

The maiden said, "Her fever broke some time ago. Did no one tell you?"

"She's alive?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lithariel, "She fought harder than any mother I've ever seen. Even with a body so frail she accomplished so great a thing. She is sleeping now. We will wake her soon."

* * *

Ursa began to stir. Suddenly, her eye spread open. It darted about, searching its surroundings. She struggled to see with candlelight only providing a dim picture of the room. Ursa felt utterly exhausted and unable to move. She saw Lithariel leaning against the door and a midwife sitting in a chair next to her bed. The mother called weakly to her.

"Lady Lithariel… where is my baby? Is my child alright?"

"It is as I said," said the woman with a smile, "Your child is with your husband now, sleeping softly. I will bring her to you."

"'Her?'"

"You gave birth to a beautiful girl."

"A girl? I see…"

Ursa felt herself overcome with relief. As Talion left the room, the mother was left in silence, something she was glad for. Right now, she did not want to hear any noise less it be her child's coos or the voice of her lover. Slowly, the Warchief began to pull herself up. The maiden noticed and brought her a pillow so that she could rest her head against the headboard. The young lady parted Ursa's long messy locks to the side and cleaned up her forehead. She also adjusted the blanket so she was presentable before Talion entered.

"You ladies did wonderful. Ask anything of us and we will give it to you," said a masculine voice.

Ursa could hear Talion's voice approaching in the hall. He would be with her in a moment.

A woman's voice, likely that of Lithariel, said, "You are too kind. But do not promise so easily or these cunning maidens will surely take your estate."

"My estate means nothing compared to what Ursa has given me. Are you certain she is awake?"

Ursa felt some life return to her now as she saw Talion open the door and gaze down upon her. Her hands quickly reached out, desperately wanting to hold the newborn and see her face. As if trying to take hold of water, she gently scooped up the child into her hands. She pulled it up against her and fawned down at it. Her daughter was small and pale, but with rosy cheeks and feint color in her skin. As for her eyes, they were a golden brown as Talion's had once been.

"She is a small thing," whispered Lithariel to the parents, "But many smaller babies have I seen raised. She cries, sleeps, and moves about."

Talion said, "Our child will live Ursa."

As he gazed down at her, he thought her more beautiful than ever. Though ragged and warn, Ursa looked at peace. She cradled her baby and slid a finger gently down its cheek. The baby's lips moved as Ursa stroked her tiny paws. Talion saw Ursa's eye beginning to tear up. Like jewels, they sparkled as they fell down her face.

"She's so beautiful," said Ursa, "I had no idea. I had no idea… s-she would be so beautiful. My child cries. She breathes. Her heart beats. Such a strong heart."

She looked up at her husband and said, "Truly I am blessed above all women. Talion… we are going to be a family from now on. It'll be alright. Everything will be alright."

Talion nodded as he felt himself taken again by his own tears, as his emotions swelled up within him.

Ursa giggled at her daughter and kissed her on the nose. The infant moaned and began to stir from its slumber.

"What will we call her?" asked Talion.

"I would not have a name of black speech for her," she said, "What of a name from Gondor?"

"Your name is most beautiful." said Talion, "I am sure you will give her one just as lovely."

"Hmmm," said his wife, "I must think. There was a name of Dale that I always wished for myself. Inga… the hero's daughter."

"Inga…" he said, "A beautiful name."

"Inga," Ursa whispered, "Your father and I will protect you from now. We will not fall. And I will not despair again. My child is strong, my husband is strong, and… I am strong."

The End.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Thank you for reading _Ursa the Cunning_! Once I have finished the new game, I intend to begin writing the sequel. The main story of the book will center around Talion and Ursa's conquests in Mordor while also having them deal with trying to care for a child. Please look forward to _Ursa of Fire!_


	15. Update: Please Read

Hello. I'm sorry to use an update to advertise. However, if you enjoyed this story, please know that I have completed writing the final story: **Ursa of Fire**. The first chapter is now uploaded! It is based off of the Shadow of War game. If you are interested, please go to my profile and read it. Thank you.


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